


Darkness Falls

by virtualpersonal



Series: Dance With The Devil Verse [3]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Desire, Emotional, Hallucinations, Hunters, M/M, Romance, Sexy Times, Threesome - M/M/M, Torture, Vampire Dean Winchester, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 03:20:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 63,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4123842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtualpersonal/pseuds/virtualpersonal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the sequel to An Unholy Union wherein Dean hooks up with Spike as a means to blow off steam, but gets more than he bargained for when it becomes an obsession, then turns to more. In Darkness Falls, the boys have to make the difficult choice of saving Dean by vamping him. Can they keep him from completely going to the darkside before they can get him re-ensouled, like Spike?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://tinypic.com)
> 
> co-written with Artofmayhem

Sam lay in the king sized bed with his back to the pair beside him. They would have to have ended up at a motel where they couldn't get two beds. It should have been big enough, but not with those two. Besides, Dean always tended to be a bed hog, just like he was with the sheets and whenever he got a chance to eat pie. Sam always thought it stemmed from not ever truly having had anything of his own. Always giving up things for his little brother. Having to make due with pass downs. Even the car had belonged to their dad first. Dean's favorite leather jacket, again their father's. And his choice in music...that too. It had to wear on Dean's psyche. And right... there was a reason he was playing psychologist and trying to think of anything but what those two were up to. 

Spike’s back was up against Sam's back. Dean was on the other side, facing Spike. He wasn’t really a cuddlier but then what he was doing wasn't cuddling. Words were whispered ... murmured against lips and skin, then Dean’s breathing filled the air, heavier, quicker at times, hitching at times. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Sam felt Dean's hand bump his back each time he got his hand behind Spike's back so he could caress, touch and grope Spike. 

It was getting to the point where Sam wanted to tell him to switch places so he could get some decent sleep. But if he did, it would be an admission that he was aware of what they were doing and that he wasn’t asleep as he was pretending.

Dean's mouth was all over Spike's, his tongue searching, teeth nibbling at that bottom lip of his while he caressed, pinched and squeezed up and down the vampire’s body. The exploration was slow. "Shh," Dean whispered, "Gonna wake Sammy." He smiled as his body pushed Spike into the bedding so he was near on top of him. Clearly the concerns about waking Sam were outweighed by the needs of his body, and the telling bulge he was pressing up against Spike hip.

Spike gripped Dean’s ass and dragged him down harder over him, stifling a groan. “Sammy likes it,” he whispered, dragging his upper teeth lightly along Dean’s jaw, then teasing the corner of his mouth. He was holding the hunter so tight, they could barely move against each other.

Dean moves his hips slightly, rubbing himself against Spike. "Says you." He lowered his head, his teeth closing on the sensitive flesh of Spike’s throat to give him a sucking bite. In the dark of the room lit up by only a light outside the window, Dean could see a small dark patch marring Spike’s alabaster skin. A low noise rumbled from deep in his throat, even if the mark would disappear soon, it was his mark.

Just like that, Spike’s cock filled and surged... straining with need against Dean’s. Still gripping him, Spike ran his fingers along the crack of Dean’s ass over his boxers, heard his breath hitch deep in his throat. “Fuck me lightly,” he suggested, brushing his mouth against the side of the hunter’s face. 

"Have we ever done anything lightly?" Dean asked as his tongue traced the shell of Spike's ear. He rolled them over so Spike was on top and his hand didn't just play on the outside of Spike's underwear but slipped under his waistband.

“Fuck... Dean...” Spike went momentarily silent at the intensity of sensations washing over him the instant Dean found him. He couldn’t help arching his hips slightly. “Yes... in Tulsa... we fucked very lightly and quietly in Tulsa. Best bloody six hours ever...”

Sam closed his eyes tightly. Those were the most torturous six hours of his life as he lay in the other bed, just listening. Similar to now but this was worse. The bed moved with each of their movements. They were closer so Sam could hear each whispered word as if it was whispered in his ear. He wanted to whine but swallowed it down while struggling to keep his breathing even.

Dean gripped Spike's ass and nodded, "True." He leaned up to kiss Spike. "But you’ve been teasing me all day." He pushed one finger over Spike’s sack and started to slide it up and down the underside of his cock, slowly pumping. "Slide over onto your stomach," Dean half commanded.

Spike groaned lightly and lifted up onto his elbows, trying to give Dean a piercing stare, though he didn’t know how successful he was seeing as his body was focused on one thing only... the pleasure point Dean had found. “You’re going to fuck me? Don’t know how I feel about that.” As if to emphasize his point, he dragged his thick cock up the length of Dean’s cock to his abs, then all the way down... nudging against Dean’s sac.

"Give a little, take a little, next time you can have me any way you want. _Any_ way," Dean stressed as he shifted, accidentally bumping his brother. If Sam made a sound, Dean didn’t notice. He pushed Spike down, a gentle urging at the small of the vampire's back before sliding his hand up his spine. He used his other hand to tug at Spike's underwear, glancing over to Sam and only seeing his brother shift a bit.

The scent of arousal teased Spike, made him ache that much the harder. The slide of Dean’s warm caloused palm up and down his back left him shivering with anticipation. Impatient, he grabbed a spare pillow and managed to shove it low under his stomach. “Go on,” he growled, looking over his shoulder and nearly losing it when Dean licked his lips.

Dean put his finger to his mouth, telling Spike to hush as he tipped his head toward Sam. Then he flashed that impossibly adorable grin of his that people couldn’t resist, and tugged his own underwear midway down his thighs. His cock was hard and needy. Dean gripped it, pumping it a few times before rubbing it against Spike's tight bud. Without real lube, it was gonna be a bit painful for them both but it was a pain that they both fed off. He used his pre-cum for some lubrication and then started to push inside.. Dean had to grit his teeth tight to keep from growling out.

Spike gripped the bedding, arching his neck and trying to hold back the sound of pleasure and pain. He felt Dean grow hard inside him, felt him pushing as far inside as he could... heard his harsh breaths and knew he was struggling to maintain control. Bucking, he urged him on, turning his head again, and silently mouthing his demand. “Fuck me... now.”

Dean pushed, straining a little and biting back swears before his hips connected with the curve of Spike's ass. He finally let out a shaky breath, just nodding to the mouthed words that commanded him. All he wanted ... needed... was to feel, to gather himself and after a few long breaths, he started to move, just slightly at first, dragging his cock along Spike’s pleasure point.

Each time Dean slowly rode him, all the muscles in Spike’s body tightened, his fingers bit into the bedding. Soon, he was lost in waves of desire and need, pleasure and more desire. Dean’s warm breaths caressed his ear faster and faster as the hunter’s breaths grew shallow. They fed each others’ need, spiraled higher, and moved faster and harder. The mattress started to shake and groan under their weight as Dean’s movements became more focused. 

“That’s it ... yeah,” Spike shouted into the pillow, bucking, needing, urging...

Sam closed his eyes even tighter. He tried to keep his breathing even as his own cock filled and was starting to get painful. He bit his bottom lip as he heard a deep throaty moan that was strained to keep quiet. That had to be his brother. It was echoed by another that was muffled and a hand brushed Sam's backside. He almost jerked in response and it took every bit of control to keep from moving. He realized that the hand that moved was Spike's, reaching back to touch his brother. 

He opened his eyes, looking at the wall, trying not to think of what was happening behind him. But the shadow on the wall didn't help. He could see Dean moving. See him throwing his head back then bend forward and lower it to Spike. 

Words were spoken against skin, wet kisses were attempted and the breathing became more labored. And then Dean was releasing because he could hear it. Sam’s cock ached so much worse now, he had to struggle not to touch himself... not to allow himself the same release.

And it wasn’t over. The mattress kept moving under him as the other two men fumbled together, bumped into him so they could change positions. This went on and on... more murmurs, more bumps, the sound of Spike finding release. He was sweating, and they were nowhere near stopping....

Sam closed his eyes again, trying to shut out the grunting that was getting louder. He was trying not to listen when he felt a hand on him. "Sam," he heard Spike whisper his name then it was repeated by Dean. His heart pounding, he turned...

~~~~

"SAM!" Dean shouted from the other bed.

Sam jerked awake and blinked, realizing, it was a dream. All a dream. But how much of it was? His raised his hand to rub one eye then the other, trying to come fully awake and shake off the dreams. 

"Spike is bringing coffee, probably want to shower before he gets back." 

Sam sat up, still groggy. He was in his own bed, not a shared bed like in his dream. Looking down he noticed his cock was still hard and made sure the covers hid that fact, "Okay, in a moment, um, let me wake up." 

"Whatever." Dean continued to tie his boot.

 

Pushing the door open, Spike strode inside and set the cardboard drink carrier down. “Three cups of steaming coffee, a donut with all sorts of sugary crap,” he leveled a look toward Dean, “And a bran muffin.” When he turned to Sam, he smirked. “Nice dreams?”

Sam blushed and tried to glare at the vampire, "I'm gonna go shower." He threw back the covers, quickly heading for the bathroom.

Dean walked over, peeking in the bag first, making a sound before his hand drove in to pull out the sticky glazed donut and licked his fingers as he changed hands. He took a big bite, then talking with food to the side of his mouth, asked, "Sammy had good dreams? Don't know if I should be proud or applaud."

Spike cocked his head to the side in agreement. “You woke him up too soon, didn’t you?” 

"How was I suppose to ..." Dean took another huge bite, "Know." He grabbed for the coffee, pulling one from the carrier and taking a careful sip as he walked to the bed and sat down. 

In the shower, Sam rubbed his face and cursed himself for having such dreams, especially about his brother. What was his problem? What was going on? 

Then an even more chilling thought hit him. How long had that dream been? Where did it start and end. He tried to puzzle it out under the pounding hot water when it occurred to him he should use cold instead, since his body was still vibrating from the dream. He could have stayed there until the water washed away the urges of his body and the cobwebs from his mind, but he didn’t want to look the fool by taking hours.

Climbing out of the shower, he started to dry off in front of the mirror as he did. At least one thing was real, he and Dean did get the tattoos. His stood out on his skin like a beacon. But where did reality stop and dream began? That was when a chilling thought occurred to him. Flinging the door open, he rushed out. "The card came, it didn't happen, did it?" He stood there looking between the two. “We didn’t save him...”

Dean turned his head, nearly choking on his coffee and mouth full of delicious sugary eats. "Well if you were playing cards, Sammy, you have a tell." He motioned with his head toward Sam's crotch.

“And little bit of lather isn’t hiding much, not when you’ve got a Goliath of a...” Spike’s gaze openly focused on Sam’s privates. He chuckled as the guy disappeared only to come back with a towel about his waist, looking as intense and serious as if they were in a life or death situation. “You don’t see the humor in this?” he drawled.

Even that didn’t get a smile out of Sam, so Spike tried to calm him.“Whatever happened between the time you left the bed and took a shower, can’t be that bad. Have your coffee, might feel better, yeah?”

Sam shifted his gaze between the pair, "You never talked to Lilith did you," he half asked Spike.

“You know I haven’t,” Spike said, sobering suddenly. “Your friend Bobby hasn’t come through with any contacts yet.” Time was short... very short now. The sharp reminder changed the mood in the room. “THAT was your happy dream?” He could have sworn Sam was aroused by his dream... 

Dean didn't bother with licking his fingers this time, just turning to Sam as his younger brother quickly tried to dress. "You thought I was saved by a card game?"

Sam just lifted his head up at his brother not speaking, but the sadness was there in his eyes.

"Dude, have you ever known anything to be that easy for us?" He shifted around to face his brother. "We have a week. We got buttcus. Whoever has my contract, they’re hiding their identity. For all we know, it's Satan himself."

"Then we call a demon and I'll make them talk." Sam pulled his pants up, zipping the fly and fixing the button.

Taking his coffee, Spike wandered to the small window and pulled the dingy curtain to one side to look out into the dark parking lot. They’d taken to doing as much traveling as possible before dawn or after dusk to accommodate his allergy to the sun. Sometimes the brothers went ahead during the day and he’d meet them at night. Sometimes when he arrived, he got the feeling Dean half expected him to be a no-show. There was a certain relief in his eyes when he got there, though the hunter never said anything.  
He rubbed the back of his neck. So Sam dreamt they’d saved Dean. It was no wonder, what with time slipping away from them one day at a time. They still had the plan of last resort... but none of them wanted to go that route, and he didn’t want to be the one to mention it. The truth was he still struggled with himself... wanting Dean to stay the way he was, human, with a heart beat that he loved... and another part of him wanting to possess him completely, make him his. He moved his jaw back and forth, then turned. 

“That didn’t work with that bastard red head we caught and worked over.” There had been only so much they could do since the demon had inhabited a human body. “Do you have something else in mind?”

Sam ran his hands over his face. He then looked to his brother. So far, converting his brother to a vampire and then working on getting his soul back was the only plan they’d come up with. Besides, Sam worried that Dean’s soul could still be sent to hell, and then how would they get it back? "I think we need to go back to the hell's gate. Where it all started. Complete the circle.”

Dean twisted his head to shoot his brother with a look that said he wondered if the younger Winchester had completely lost it, "What!?"

"We need to go back there. If they take you, we have the key to open the gate and ..." Sam started. 

"And go in there and get me back?" Dean shot up. "Are you nuts? No!"

"You got a better plan?" Sam snapped back standing strong against his brother.

The brothers argued and fought the same way as they did everything else in their lives, with the passion and fire of someone whose time was too short to be wasted with banal words and empty days. 

After letting it go on a bit, “It’s not a bad back up plan,” Spike said quietly. None of them knew exactly what would happen to Dean, if he was soulless due to having been vamped. There were no guarantees. Seeing the fire enter Dean’s gaze, Spike raised a hand. “With one change. Sam will not go in, not ever. He’s the one they want... makes no sense for him to walk in there.”

"What the hell did you put in that coffee?" Dean demanded, making a show of examining his cup. "You think it's gonna be just walking in, ask directions and they hand my soul over?" Anger and panic edged Dean's voice. "No. I won't allow it."

"You can't stop us, Dean," Sam answered. "You gave up everything for me. For Dad. Even now you won't let anyone take care of you for once. It's gonna happen, like it or not. Like you, I'm not gonna let you go that easily. I know Spike won't." He looked to the vampire for some confirmation.

“We’re not letting you go, period.” Spike strode toward his furious lover, and put his hand on his back. “You listen to me, yeah? You’re not going to hell in the first place, so retrieval won’t be necessary. But we...” he nodded toward Sam, “... we need to know there is a way to get you back if ... if things don’t go the way they should. You can’t take that away from us.”

Dean felt his body respond. It always did whenever Spike touched him. It wanted to go weak. To relent to the two and just give in. But his anger kept his knees locked. Kept him standing and fighting, kept him from just rolling over to their will. He pulled away, "I don't like it. There has to be another way." 

"You even listening to Spike?" Sam asked as he stepped closer. "It's a back up plan. Look. We head there, repair the tracks and well if the gate needs to be open, the demons will stay in."

Dean rubbed his forehead, "I have a bad feeling." 

"It's the donuts you ate and dinner last night." Sam answered.

There should be laughter, but there wasn’t. Spike tried again, this time wrapping his arms around Dean and stroking his back. “It’s a bad business. Nothing’s going to give you good feelings about it, other than ... a dream. But we’ll get through this, just like we got through Dark Haven, and just like we got through that ambush at the plantation house. We don’t leave anyone behind. Not ever.” His voice was thick with emotion and determination. He wasn’t giving Dean up, nor his brother. He’d found his family, and he wasn’t about to let a bloody demon break it up.

Dean looked down into the eyes of his vampire lover. There was nothing dead about those eyes, he could read the emotions burning brightly, the kind you couldn’t hide. He shifted his attention over to Sam, this time having to look up at his taller and younger brother.

"Let us, Dean, please." Sam whispered.

There was a long pause, with two out of the three of the men holding their breaths. Dean finally made a bit of a face before answering, "Okay."

“Right... okay.” Spike released him and gave Sam a look of relief. “If he’s this difficult as a human, I don’t even want to imagine him as a vampire.” Demon. He’d almost said _demon_.

* * * 

They’d been traveling hard... day and night. During the days, Spike was holed up in the back of the Impala under some irritating barricade so he wouldn’t turn to smoke. He hated every minute of it and spent hours trying to convince Dean that very dark window tinting was a good thing... something he should embrace. 

Using the back roads, they’d come across a single room cabin... a shack that was falling apart on the outside. They’d agreed to stretch their legs and rest for a few hours. Spike returned from gathering wood for the old fireplace and was happy to smell coffee. That was one thing none of them could do with out.

He kicked the door shut, and gave Sam a nod of approval. He’d brought some blankets and cleaned up a bit by pushing the trash and knocked over furniture to the corners of the room. There was a single cot against the wall. “Bloody useless,” he muttered, looking at it. “Too short for you, too narrow for us.” 

"Sleep on the floor," Sam responded. He was bent over the fire and had a pot of coffee brewing on it. 

Dean was pouring a line of salt along the windows and door. He glanced over and shrugged, "Not a first time." 

Sam glanced back to Dean and he sighed. He was worried about his brother. Time was short and soon the hounds would be coming. He remembered how they terrified their victims and couldn’t bear to see them do that to Dean.

Seeing Sam pull the coffee pot out of the fire and set it on a broken piece of tile, Dean took it and poured a cup, holding it out to Spike, "It will be like a slumber party." He smirked.

“Will you be wearing pink frilly things and showing Sam make-up tricks? Thanks.” Taking the cup he brought it to his lips then burning his mouth, jerked it away. 

"Serves you right," Sam answered.

Dean chuckled, "I think Spike suggested it cause that is what he has longed for. He wants little pink ribbons in his hair."

Sam chuckled as he blew over his coffee then took a sip.

“That your way of calling me a _ponce_?” Spike fixed Dean with a heated look. “You know there’ll be hell to pay later... much later. Sam too, seeing as there’s only one room.” He let Dean wonder on the form of punishment and went to sit at the table. 

“Take it as you like," Dean answered as he lowered down to the floor.

Sam chuckled going down as well to cross his legs. "Well, we aren't far from our destination. Maybe a couple hours travel." 

Dean looked over into the fire. He felt like a giant clock was ticking behind him. With each beat of his heart, it took another second from his life. Soon he would be experiencing what his father did. What Sam did for that brief time before he was brought back. And honestly, it scared the hell out of him.

It was getting harder to laugh, or to keep the moments light. Something would always remind them this wasn’t just any other day, it was a day closer to the end. Sitting on the chair and looking down at the brothers, Spike almost crushed the cup in his hand. No choices... no good ones, it was the story of their lives. Who the bloody hell had dealt them their cards? Spike wished he could get his hands around the throat of the guilty party.

He drummed on the table, aching to pull the older Winchester into his arms... to make him forget for a few hours. To tell him all would be right. But he could tell from the hard, stoic look on Dean’s face, this wasn’t the time.

“Sam, what can we expect?” They’d done their planning, Spike would turn Dean one night before the one year mark, and then they would have cheated the Demon. But the demon would probably still come to collect, and they’d have one angry demon on their hands. 

Sam shifted his eyes to Spike, the firelight reflecting off the side of his face. Shadows danced and it gave Sam a dark look. "When the hell hounds came for that man, he heard them but I didn't. He just told me where they were. Dean will hear the howling long before we will."

Dean snorted as he took another drink.

“Howling. Sodding hell!” Spike didn’t notice he’d pushed his cup over and the liquid was pouring off the table. “In the car... I’ve been hearing the occasional howling. Thought it might be wolves, yeah? And earlier—“ His head snapped toward Dean. “You holding out on us, mate? Do you hear them?” He was up and crossing the few feet that separated them.

Dean had been trying to move to get away from the coffee but then he was being pulled up by his collar by two strong vampire hands dragging him to Spike’s his face level. "I thought we were just passing wolves," Dean tried to lie.

Sam shot up as if someone pricked his ass with a needle. "Dean, why didn't you say anything." He was grabbing the keys to the Impala and rushing out the door.

Dean just gave an innocent shrug, at least as innocent as he could get.

“What’s the matter with you?" Seething, Spike jerked Dean’s collar. “Do you want them to catch us by surprise, is that it? You want this to be over... Well you listen to me, it won’t be over... not like that... never like that.”

Dean looked away, not able to answer. "Just... wanted to hold on a little longer."

Spike was ready to shout at him, whatever his answer... it was a sure thing he’d get shouted at, only nothing came out of Spike’s mouth. _He didn’t want to turn._ Only this time it wasn’t because of his hate for vampires, it was for all the right reasons. Paling, he dropped his hands. Inches separated them, might as well be miles. “Sorry,” Spike whispered as Sam walked inside. “I... let’s get this place sealed off. We’ll hold off as long as we can.” Wasn’t much more he could do or say or promise.

Sam looked between the two and knew something happened. Something was said, something that left a gaping wound, only he didn’t know which of them was hurting. He tossed Spike a bag and then one to Dean. "Let's get started. Faster the better."

Dean caught the bag and started in the back, finding a window and sprinkling the blackish powder along it. Sam started on the other side, doing the same. Who knew words could have that much power. Dean should have. Enough of them cut him sharply.

As Spike moved around, making sure the door and windows were barred, and the few bits of rickety furniture were moved to up against the small windows and in front of the door, he wore his silence like a mantle. Inside, a battle was raging... the same one he’d fought since the night he’d started to turn Dean and then changed his mind. Back then, he’d stopped because he’d thought Dean was under John Winchester’s power... that he’d feel guilty or hate himself for failing his father by allowing himself to be turned. Now he had a new worry. Dean. Dean himself did not want this. He drew a breath he didn’t need, and went back to see if there was more salting that could be done. 

Dean stood there, in the middle of the room as the fire flickered. He looked at it as the flame got low from a wind. He heard a howl and his head turned to look out the window then barking came, mixed with growls. 

"You hear them?" Sam asked, going to his brother.

Dean looked back, not answering.

"We can't wait, we need to change him. Now." Sam spoke with urgency. There was a bit of panic that was starting to creep upon him. 

The sound of thunder rent the air, emphasizing Sam’s words. 

No one spoke. 

The seconds stretched to minutes, and the rain started to pour. It pounded against the window panes and the door as surely as the hell-hounds would.

And still, three men searched each others’ faces. 

_Sometimes there were no answers._

 

Sam looked at the door and the wind was picking up. It was gonna blow the dust soon, breaking the line and letting the hounds in. Sam stared at the door as it rattled before turning back to the two. "You have to do it, now." Sam half ordered. Panic building in his voice.

Dean looked over to Spike, his heart pounding. Fear was in his blood but he wasn’t showing it on his face. Or at least he was trying to cover it.

This was it. Ground zero. It took Spike a long moment before it sank in and he moved.

 

In a few strides, he was in front of Dean and pulling him close. Gaze laser focused on the hunter’s greens, he choked on his words. _“Forgive me.”_ And then his mouth was clamped over Dean’s, his tongue probing and seeking Dean’s.

Spike wanted it over, he’d try not to drag it out this time, but he wasn’t going to hurt Dean, and he didn’t care if Sam was right there, he was going to make sure his hunter’s path to death was paved with ecstasy. He wasn’t going to give him time to think about it, to freak out over it, to weight the rights and wrongs of it.

Dean couldn't bring himself to pull away. He couldn't move at all, except to kiss. His hands grabbed at Spike's shirt, holding on to keep either of them from turning back.

Sam watched, the two kissing and he felt a pain in his heart. He was just watching, letting his brother be turned. Just as Gordon was turned. He swallowed a lump that was trying to form. 

Dean melted into Spike. His tongue danced over Spike's and he half forgot what they were going to do.

The hunter became the center of Spike’s universe. Every hard kiss, every stroke of his hands, every brush of his body against the hunter’s was calculated to arouse and inflame, to burn out thoughts of anything but this... what was between them. 

One step at a time, Spike dragged Dean back with him until he felt the rocking chair hit the back of his knees. Tongue fucking Dean into a state of oblivion, he managed to strip him down to his jeans. 

Dean's world started to spin out of control. Wave after wave of pleasure hit him with each rub of hips against his, brushing just the right spots. Dean could have easily gotten off this way with just one more rub but Spike was pulling back and his outer shirt and his tee shirt were pulled up over his head, exposing his talisman and the tattoo that flickered in the fire light.

Turning Dean around to face away from him, Spike ran his hands up and down his sides, then gripping his hips, sat down, settling Dean on his lap. Before he could come back to himself, Spike locked lips again, this time moving his hands over his abdomen... bare skin stretched taut over beautiful muscle. Fuck, if he wasn’t careful... he was going to be too lost in pleasure to concentrate. 

The vampire's plan was working. Dean was so distracted all he could think about was the sensations washing over his body, and the need to tongue fuck Spike right back. He leaned back, as far as he could, stretching, crushing his mouth against the vampires. 

Sam moved quickly to the door, placing a new thicker line of black powder down. He glanced back in time to see Spike's hand move down lower over his brother. It was clear Dean was enjoying it. His cock showed a clear outline through his jeans. Sam swallowed hard and wanted to say faster.

Dean cupped his hand behind Spike's head, his body trembling and the cause was unclear. However his body twisted a little as he deepened his kiss. Dean pulled back a bit, whispering, "I'll forgive you. I love you."

Spike knew a thing or two about end of the world promises, but he was love’s bitch... and hope always lurked in the darkest corner of his unbeating heart. “We’ll fly off the rafters... we’ll ... be forever.” Siding one hand up to Dean’s throat, he pushed on his jaw, pulling him close. One last time, he took his mouth, tasting, loving, fucking, wanting... needing...


	2. Chapter 2

The urge to turn him was growing stronger. Maybe Dean giving him permission again had opened up the floodgates. Maybe the howling and the wind was growing stronger, and maybe it was just time.

Sweeping his free hand over the bulge in Dean’s jeans, Spike squeezed and rubbed, and stroked until Dean’s hips started to rise up and down, making the chair rock back and forth. He kept working him up, made his hunter want only one thing, made him need it so bad he wouldn’t feel anything else. Couldn’t think about anything but the next touch, and the next.

Dean trembled, rocked back and forth, desperately chasing the friction he needed more with each stoke. Hot, he was so hot... so close. He gasped suddenly and bit into his bottom lip, his body stiffening. 

That was when everything else went to a blur for Dean. Spike’s hand moved up from his throat to his jaw and tipped his head back. Smooth, firm lips kissed him along his jawline to his ear. He felt teeth scrape along his skin but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the blinding heat rushing through his system. Just as he jerked and started to release, fangs penetrated skin... the slight burn taking nothing away from the intensity of the pleasure flooding his system.  
Sam felt the urge to rush over. To stop the turning. Even though the sight was captivating, he had to fight the urge to stop Spike, to stop the crimson life seeping from his brother. He moved forward, just a step, trying to fight the panic building inside him as Dean gave a deep groan.

Spike instantly slipped into Dean’s mind. He soothed, and crooned, and shared what it felt like to hold Dean, to hold his life, to hold his love.... he showed him the power of what was between them, his hopes that it would never end. This time he tried not to probe Dean’s mind, not to see all those things that made him doubt before. _Forever Dean, forever._ And he showed him that too... erotic images of the things they hadn’t done yet and had forever to explore. The thousand ways they could make love.

Tears wet Dean’s lashes. His skin slowly paled. His breaths became ragged but there was no pain, just a weakness invading his body. His hand dropped from behind Spike's head, hanging limply. 

Sam bit his bottom lip as he realized, his brother was dying. Was this how Dean had felt when he’d seen him die? When he’d dropped to his knees, holding him as his life ebbed away? And now, here he was doing the opposite... not holding Dean... not trying to save him, but giving him over to the things they hunted.

Despite the blood lust, Spike remained in careful control, half elated and half lamenting the slowing heart beats of his lover. It was the last time he’d hear the quickening of Dean’s heart, the last time he’d feel the thrill of making it skip a beat. When Dean’s heart stuttered, he pulled his mouth off his throat, taking one last lick of his heady blood. 

He looked over at Sam. “Knife.” 

Sam grabbed Dean's knife. He glanced at the thinning powder lines but the door had stopped rattling for the moment. The hell hounds were looking for another way in. He crossed the room and looked down as Spike extended his arm.

Sam curled his fingers around Spike's wrist. He looked at him before taking the sharp edge and slicing it along his arm.

Spike gave him a nod. Scarlet blood, his and Dean’s, started to drip onto Dean’s chest. He whispered in Dean’s ear. “Drink. Dean, I want you to take what I’m giving you... drink,” he brought his inner arm close to Dean’s mouth. “Take it.”

A swirl of colors exploded in his head. Mumbled voice. It was distant. Dean lifted his head. The smell of iron filled his nostrils. He turned his head, the red liquid smearing his lips. 

 

Sam watched, helpless. He couldn't use his abilities. They wouldn't help in this situation. Dean had to take it on his own. "Please, Dean."

Dean's eyes fluttered and he licked his lips. "Take it," was repeated again, but in a mix of voices. He heard a plea. A command. Finally, he closed his full lips over the cut. His mouth filled and burned with the tangy iron tinged taste. He lifted his hand to hold Spike’s wrist to his mouth, and started to drink.

“That’s it. That’s it luv. Take what you need... take what you want,” Spike whispered, his voice heavy with sadness as Dean’s heartbeats slowly faded to nothingness and he was left with a limp, dead body in his lap. That wasn’t the worst of it. Sam’s pained expression tore him up inside.

He looked down, afraid to see what else might be under all that pain. Hate? Accusation? He had just killed his brother. Closing his arms around Dean, he got up and carried him the few feet it was to the cot Sam had opened up next to an inner wall, well away from the door and any windows. 

After he put the lifeless body down, he wiped Dean’s mouth. He’d seen it bloodied and swollen a hundred times before, but never because he drank blood. The demon in Spike wanted to shout with triumph, but bloody sodding hell... his soul hurt. “Hurry back,” he whispered and got up.

Sam seemed to be rooted in place. Frozen. In shock. Spike wanted to hold him, to tell him it was a bad dream and they’d all wake soon. But he wasn’t sure his embrace would be welcome now.

“Do you want me to... to wait outside? Could be a few hours,” Spike asked. 

Sam looked at the pale lifeless body of his brother then shifted his attention to Spike. "No," he answered before he noticed, the wind had died down and the growling and the scratching stopped. "He woke the last time with you not here and it broke him. Don't want that to happen again," Sam lifted his head to Spike.

Whether Sam meant it that way or not, Spike felt like he’d been sucker punched. Licking his lips, he didn’t answer. There was nothing to be said... Sam was right.

"I wonder if this was what he did as I was ... When I died." Spike hadn't been there but Bobby was and he’d said Dean was so angry, so sad, so lost.”

“I think its safe to assume there would be no furniture left if your positions were reversed.” Spike put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, though he wouldn’t be surprised if Sam shook him away. “But he didn’t know you’d be back, and you know that he will. Sam... want a drink?”

Sam walked away and sat down on the edge of the cot by his brother. "I just hope he forgives us." He reached out to touch Dean but didn't make contact. He closed his eyes briefly then nodded, "Yeah, a drink would be good."

He wondered how long Dean would be out. Spike said he could be out for hours but what if he never woke. Sam took the bottle from Spike, taking a deep drink.

Spike was searching for words, something to say to Sam, when a loud banging erupted. The entire cabin seemed to shake under a supernatural pounding. It was over just as Sam armed himself, and it left behind a distinctly cold whisper that swept over them...

_You think you've won? He won't be your brother. Your father messed him up. Now you have as well. You've lost the Dean you knew..._

“Don’t listen to them,” Spike snapped, taking the drink out of Sam’s hand and swallowing more mouthfuls than he needed.

Sam gripped the Colt tightly in his fingers. He could feel a tremble of fear, anger and guilt go through him. What had he done to his brother? He tipped his head to Spike, "Then tell me Dean will be Dean. That he will still be my brother."

Spike stared at him for a long moment. It wasn’t a promise he could make with absolute conviction, and Sam would see that. He took another drink. “It’s like this. He won’t be the same, not at first. He’ll ... most vampires wake with a savage thirst, a need for blood. They’re abandoned by their sires, and confused. They think they have to kill to survive, and then they enjoy it. I’ll be here to explain things to him.” 

He walked across the room and leaned against a wall, his eyes shifting back and forth between Sam and Dean’s still body. “I didn’t lie to you, before. About getting him back.” This time, he locked gazes with Sam. “I know a way to get him a soul, and once that’s in him, he will be Dean. Our Dean. Until then... I don’t know. I think he loves you enough that he couldn’t see you as food, but we’ll have to be careful. You can’t trust him. I won’t leave you alone with him. As his Sire...I’ll be able to exert some control over him. I want to make certain he never tastes human blood... that’s an addiction that's hard to kick.”

As Spike spoke, Sam looked over to Dean. That was his brother there. Dead. Waiting to wake and be something they hunted. Sam turned his head and fully faced Spike. "I don't want him to have _a_ soul. I want him to have _his_. I want him to be Dean. Not my brother with someone else's soul. I'll do whatever I have to get that for him. I owe him more than that. He's taken care of me all his life. It's my turn now."

Spike merely gave a nod. He wasn't certain the soul inside him was his own, nor could he make that promise for Dean. But if that was what Sam wanted, then they'd figure out the way to get what he wanted. He understood how the turning was affecting him, scaring him ... how he needed his brother to be _the same_ as possible.

Sam's long legs carried him the short steps to Spike. "Shouldn't we go out and get him some animal blood before he wakes?" 

 

"No. We don't want him waking up alone. There's a bit of blood in the ice chest. Should be enough for a first feeding." He put his hand on Sam's arm, "it's the middle of the night, Sam. There's nowhere to get it now. But if you need to go for a drive or..." he spread his hands. "We'll be here, waiting. Just don't wander off." 

 

Sam turned to face his brother, dead on the bed in every sense of the word. He wondered if Dean's soul was taken by the hell hounds. What was happening to him right now. Was he being tortured. Was being in hell the same time as here or worse? Faster? Longer? What had they done? He felt tears prick at his eyes. "No. I won't leave him. I can't." He looked back at Spike. "He's still my brother."

Staring into Sam's tearful eyes, Spike's gut wrenched. Truth of it was that he was scared too, scared for Dean, scared for Sam. Scared he'd never be able to put them all together again the way they were a few hours ago, a family. "He's your brother, and you love him." He put his arms around Sam, holding the taller man's tense frame close. "I do too, and we're not letting him slip away. Neither of us, yeah?" 

Sam leaned into Spike, for the support, needing the comfort. Spike cared for Dean, but Sam needed his brother more. He squeezed Spike firmly before pushing back a bit. He pulled away and moved to the fire place, realizing he was probably the only one who from now on would need the warmth of a fire. He crouched down, staring into it before throwing more broken furniture on it. 

None of this would have happened if their mother hadn't died. None of this would have happened if their father just left them with family while he went on his own revenge. But then Dean and Sam might not be this close. Even Dean had said so once himself. Sam was so torn inside now... confused... half wishing Dean would wake now, and half wishing he never would. So much had happen to his brother. So much. Dean deserved better. 

He heard Spike cross over to the rocking chair and take a seat. His eyes shifted over to him. "Promise me you’ll take better care of him than our father did." 

“I’ll do my best,” Spike answered solemnly, gripping the arms of the chair. “Can’t fail with you kicking my arse into gear if you think I’m going about it the wrong way.” He hesitated a minute. “You know he needs you. You’re what keeps him going.”

"Yeah, that’s why he gave his soul for me," Sam pushed up and moved closer to Spike. "So tell me this. Why did he seek you out then?"

Spike looked up. “You kill enough things, touch enough darkness, hurt enough... and one day you ... you need something. Something so different, so unthinkable, something that forces you in contact with your enemies but in a new way. It’s different for everyone. Some hunters would come to the club looking to dominate, be dominated... or to talk, or find out what it’s like to be pressed up against the enemy until you can’t breath, what its like to need to fuck what you want to kill.”

He patted his lap. “Sit. Giving me a bloody crick in the neck.” 

Sam hesitated a moment before he walked over but he didn't sit on Spike's lap, but lowered himself down to the floor beside the chair. "Of us both, Dean has touched a lot of darkness. And our father ..." Sam shook his head. "What did Dean want?"

"I don’t think he knew. He... I think he had a lot of anger, a lot of emotions and didn’t know what to do with them. When he walked into the club, something about him... I couldn’t look away.” Spike bit his lip and laughed at himself. “I don’t think he knew what the bloody hell he was doing there, but he didn’t let on. Not for one minute. I said ‘lets fuck’ and he asked what I was waiting for. You really want to hear this?” 

Sam looked up at Spike and nodded, "Yes, I do." He placed his hand on Spike's arm, "Dean doesn't let on to a lot of things. You have to either read him, or force it out of him. Get him so worked up he either shouts it at you or his guard collapses and he let’s you in."

“Got him worked up alright,” Spike drawled at the memory. “Learned a few things... things he wouldn’t say. Knew that death was clinging to him. That he was trying to decide whether to fight it or not. And maybe he was tired of making the decisions, moving things forward.” Spike looked down, it was hard to explain. “He’s like a bleeding contradiction. He wanted to be controlled, and do the controlling. Remember I showed you how he likes to be kissed? Back at the plantation?” He’d demonstrated by showing Sam that Dean needed to be held hard, needed to be forced to keep from moving, at least at first.

Sam lowered his eyes, looking away. "Yeah, I can see how or why he would want that. All his life, he's had to be the strong one. To take care of me and our father pushed him." He sighed heavily. "Dean is tired. And I can't stop the bleeding of the wounds he has. When you left. He was... worse." He looked up at Spike again. "When did you fall in love with him?"

Spike ran his hand over his face. “Is there an exact moment?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just... at first it was a game. Then I needed it. Needed to see him. I think it might have been when I realized what he was coming back for was me, not... not the place, not just for a fuck or a moment of peace with anyone, like the other hunters ... but for me.” He cocked his head to the side. “I don’t really go out of my way for most, but when I started to for him... I knew.”

Pushing forward on the rocking chair, he reached for the bottle on the ground, then took a long swig. “What about you. When did you know,” he asked, his laser blue eyes piercing Sam’s soft greens.

Sam looked over at Dean, "it was a short while after you were with us." He shifted. "I would see you watching him. And then there were the times you would get jealous as Dean and I would argue," Sam gave a little smile. "There are two ways to take Dean. Either you hate him or you love him. It was clear, you loved him." 

“True enough. But wasn’t what I was asking.” He put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “When did you know you love him. More than a brother.” 

Sam looked away, "I always loved my brother. I've looked up to him. Wanted to be just like him." But Sam knew that wasn't the answer Spike was waiting on. He let long moments pass, Spike's hand heavy on him. He trembled slightly and finally answered. "When I was seventeen. One of the reasons I left to go to college." 

He hadn’t expected that, he’d thought the realization had come more recently. Why did everything he learned about the brothers’ past make each event seem that much the sadder? Layers and layers of it? “You know, what was impossible back then might not be now,” he said softly. “He’s changed. A lot, especially since he’s been with me. And as a Vampire... the lines are blurred between family and...” He squeezed Sam’s shoulder. “I could handle it now.” 

Sam looked up at him. "We both have changed. Ever since he came to get me to look for our father, and after his death." He then paused, "But could you? Really?" 

“Share him?” There was a long silence as Spike turned the question over in his head. “I didn’t think I could, not until I thought I wouldn’t be around for him. Then I wanted you to ... to fill in any space I left in his life. I made peace with the idea you love him like I do, back then.” He nodded, knowing it was true. 

He used his knuckles to stroke the side of Sam’s face. “I love you too. At first, it was because he did. Now...” he gave a one shouldered shrug. “I’d kill anyone who tried to harm you. You’re family. I’m a vampire. The line is always blurred.” He didn’t need Sam like he needed Dean, but there was room in his heart for the younger Winchester. 

Sam leaned in, his large hand grabbing Spike's collar and pulling him to kiss him. Like his brother, Sam was forceful. He found himself biting the bottom of Spike's lip as he was pulling him from the chair, closer to him. "You should have known, I couldn't have done that. Taken your place."

 

Spike allowed himself to be dragged out of the chair and was on his knees by the time their mouths collided. He got past the shock of Sam’s aggressive tugging and closed his arms around him. With each slide of tongue against tongue, he tasted desperation and fear... and the need to channel it somewhere. 

“Right. Things will be right,” he tried to say, holding Sam, taking the storm of his emotions, and returning it. 

Sam pressed forward, his larger form dominating the vampire’s as his mouth worked over Spike's in open-mouthed kisses, wet and needy. His hands moved over Spike's body, a bit fumbly at first until he worked his way under his shirt. Sam’s large hand splayed over Spike's taunt chest muscles, his fingers moving as if to count the ribs as he took his time getting to know that part of the vampire’s anatomy. 

The slow exploration, the willingness to forge through new territory... it was so familiar, it was so much like the first time with Dean. Spike recognized the same desperation in Sam, the same need to use lust to burn out the darkness of reality. 

Though he tried to hold still for as long as he could, Spike’s body started to react... to combust. Sliding his hand up Sam’s back, he cupped his neck and head, pulled back to look at him... to look at his swollen lips, before he brought their mouths together again. This time it was the Vampire who was doing the kissing and putting a hundred years of experience into it. He started with a slow tongue fuck, moving faster, deeper, and rocking Sam back and forth with his body. 

When he ran out of breath, Sam broke the kiss and gazed down, scrutinizing Spike’s face, trying to see exactly what Dean saw in the vampire. Was it the heat or darkness in those laser blue eyes? Was it the way he touched him? The masterful way he moved his body, knowing exactly how to draw a reaction? Whatever it was, Sam would find out. 

Once he pulled his shirt off over his head, his tattoo stood out against his chiseled muscles. Dark hair hung in his eyes as he leaned forward and pushed Spike onto his back. He dropped down on one elbow, hand on Spike's forehead, tipping his head back as his mouth found a sensitive spot on Spike's throat and he ran his teeth over it, loving Spike’s reactions. 

Sam rocked his hips, needing to build the friction between them. The material of Sam's looser pants moved and gave way, heightening his arousal. He could probably get off this way but not today. He rolled to the side, hand slipping between them to undo the tight material that covered the man under him. 

A jolt of heat spread from Spike’s groin and had him lifting his hips up. A quick look at the cot and his still motionless lover, and then back at Sam had him aching... in his heart, in his soul... needing to heal these new wounds. Lunging up into a sitting position, he pulled Sam close and took his mouth in a burning kiss, melding their bodies so tightly together that Sam could no longer move his hand caught between them. It took a few precious moments for Spike to realize that the change in Sam’s heart beats, and the way he was breathing... the way he was reacting, wasn’t right. This wasn’t how Sam liked it... he didn’t like to feel trapped, not at all. Not like Dean. 

Releasing him, he slowly lay back down and lightly urged Sam over him. Strange... with his hair in his eyes, and that intense single-minded expression, Spike couldn’t see the innocent little boy that often stared back at him when he looked at Sam. 

Now that the slight panic that had washed over him faded, Sam felt his confidence return. He smoothed his hand under Spike's shirt once again, this time slowly rolling it up his body. 

Once he pulled the shirt off over Spike's head, he settled down on an elbow and ran his hand over taut skin stretched over muscles. Spike might be pale from the lack of sunlight, but the flickering light from the fire made him glow with warm colors. Getting up on his knees, he kept his gaze locked with Spike's and pulled his own zipper down. 

The sight of Sam so disheveled, so rushed and needy, kicked Spike’s lust up a notch. Stretching up, he alternatively stroked and gripped Sam’s waist, his hips, his powerful thighs, stroking him over the rough material of his jeans. Eventually, he worked his hands back up to his waistband and started to pull down. 

The sight of Sam’s cock, now free of clothing, had him biting back a curse. Moving his up hand over the front of his thighs, he closed his hand around it, stroking his thumb up and down its length, from base to tip, and over its head. 

Sam gave an involuntary hiss. There was no room to doubt Spike’s experience, the way he was working him just right, sliding and squeezing. Sam gave a gasp of breath, a slow exhale of pleasure and pumped his hips enjoying what was happening. 

With long and short strokes, Spike slowly brought Sam to the very edge, to the point where Sam was fucking his fist... gripping his wrist as if afraid he would pull it away, as if the sensations would stop. The position was a bit awkward, so Spike moved, knelt in front of the also kneeling hunter... never letting up on his cock. Using his free hand, he cupped Sam’s balls, and brought their mouths together, melding them in a long, mind drugging kiss 

As Sam returned the kisses, he imagined Dean. Remembered secretly watching his brother masturbate... his expression when he’d find his release. He remembered how it felt to kiss him too, that one time. With each memory, with each thrust of his hips, he drew one step closer, finally breaking the kiss but still pressing his forehead into Spike’s. "Dean," he breathed before his body tightened and his seed shot out into Spike's hand. 

_Dean._ Spike’s kiss momentarily turned brutal, even as he fought the instinct to give Sam a hard reminder of who he was with. After a fierce struggle to control his jealous nature, he gave up a bit of more of himself for yet another Wincheser. “Yes. I’m right here, Dean’s right here,” he whispered, gathering Sam close in a kiss meant to comfort and sooth. 

Hours later, Spike had cleaned up and was watching over the brothers. One, finally in a deep peaceful sleep, the other in a permanent sleep... but on the verge of waking.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean shifted, his arm twitched. Then suddenly he opened his eyes. He was looking up at the cobwebbed ceiling and everything seemed more ... intense. He could hear a rat crawling. He could smell sex in the air. And he could hear a heart beating.

It wasn't his. 

Dean's mouth ached. His eyes brushed past Spike for a moment, fell on Sam and at the pulse point at the side of his throat. Hunger suddenly raged inside him and he started to push up.

Spike immediately intercepted, barring the way before Dean got completely off the low cot. "Dean." He cupped his face and made him look up. His eyes were dark, darker than they got even when he was in the throes of sex. They were hungry and confused. And hard.

"My blood runs through your veins. You are my child now. I am your Sire. Do you understand?" he asked, his entire body humming with pride, and need, and love for the one he'd made. 

Dean tried to look away but Spike was holding him, forcing him to look into those blue eyes of his. Dean didn't hear a heart beat. He furrowed his brows. "What ... what happened?" He blinked. "I have this hunger," Dean tried to stand up. "I need ..." He felt his teeth ache again. His tongue touched the sharp tip of one of his teeth.

Spike's gaze tracked Dean's tongue. He'd been hard for hours after Sam fell asleep, and now Dean was looking at him and... fuck... every instinct in his body was telling him the first lesson he needed to give his child was a branding... a claiming. "I have a hunger too," he said thickly, exerting iron willed control over himself. "Yours is for blood. You're hungry. I'll get you some."

Dean closed his eyes, again hearing the strong beating of Sam's blood through his veins. He drew a deep breath before opening his eyes again. This time they were laced with red. "Yes." He felt his fangs dropping lower.

Sam heard voices. He opened his eyes, blinking as he realized his brother was moving around. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Dean?"

Dean leaned forward and he could see his brother, but also saw blood. Fresh. Hot. Alive and pumping. His craving grew.

Spike quickly brought a mug of blood over from the cooler they'd brought in. He sat next to Dean, very much aware that the newly made vampire was concentrating on Sam's vitals. "Dean. Look at me," he said firmly, like a father speaking to a son. "He is off limits, yeah? Listen... blood from a mug, that's the only way you take it. You won't hurt your brother or anyone else. This will take away the hunger." He pushed the mug into Dean's hand.

Dean's attention partially diverted to Spike. He is off limits, Dean heard echo in his head. Spike's voice was loud and for the moment, overpowering the deeper voice in his head. That of his father.

He took the cup, "Tell him not to come closer. I don't know if I can control it."

Sam climbed from the floor, staring at his brother. The cup gleamed with the red of blood. Sam let out a shiver and started to move closer. "Dean, are you ..."

Dean gagged and spit out the blood, sending it flying at Sam. "What the hell was that?" He gagged again.

Sam felt the blood splatter him and he closed his eyes. When he opened them and looked down, he had red all over his shirt, hands, arms and face.

"Get him some more," Spike snapped, putting an arm around Dean's back. "You'll get used to it. Force it down if you have to." His gaze followed Dean, back to Sam... All bloodied. He knew Dean had to be mesmerized by the sight of blood, and by the sound of blood rushing through Sam's veins. He was hurting for it. "If you don't drink the animal blood, you will hurt him. Your brother."

Dean stared at his brother. The way the blood trickled down his brother's cheek, slipping off to drop to his neck and roll down a trail, which disappeared under his collar. He felt a pain in his gut and he gritted his teeth, fighting it as he felt his knees push him up. "Get used to it. Easy for you to say," he half growled. Dean only knew he wanted it. He could pull back. Or Spike would stop him before he took too much. He just needed....

Sam got more blood into the cup. When he turned around, he saw Dean getting up. Saw the look in his brother's eyes, and couldn't look away.

"Dean." Spike let him take two steps toward Sam, and then landed a heavy hand on his shoulder. The naked desire in each of the brothers' expressions had his gut clenching. Once again, he crossed in front of Dean, blocking out his view of Sam. "What you're doing, right there... that's a trance. If he doesn't run, it's not because he doesn't want to, it's because he can't." 

He put his hand out behind him for the cup, took it when Sam gave it to him, and brought it around. "I know what you're going through. It hurts... it's like a burning thirst, you don't think anything can quench it. Believe me, it gets worse if you taste human. Drink this... it'll take the edge off. Then we can talk, the three of us."

He pushed the mug up against Dean's unwilling mouth. "Drink."

Dean blinked as Spike clouded his vision. He could still hear the pulse and it had gotten quicker but somehow not with fear. With something else. Dean couldn't pin it down. Right now his vision was focused on Spike. And as he stared at him, he swore, just gazing at him, he could see the red ecstasy flowing through the vampire's system.

He swallowed the drool that filled his mouth and shook his head no, "I don't want that." Spike tried to force it on him again and Dean kept his mouth closed, turning his head before his hand came up to swat at the cup and knock it across the room. "NO!" Dean suddenly grabbed Spike by the collar of his shirt, "That's not what I need." He snarled.

There was a struggle. Brief, but hard fought. In game face, Spike finally overpowered Dean, shouting at Sam to stay out of it when he felt the younger brother approach. He shoved Dean up against the wall, gripped him by the collar and then kissed him. It was hard, and brutal, and all about dominance and showing him who was in control. The hunter had been rebellious as a human, why should be any different now? Only with his vampire strength, he'd be even more dangerous unless he got control over his new needs.

Sam started to move forward but stopped. He could have stopped Dean. Spike knew it. After all he stopped Spike before. But Sam had a feeling Spike knew what he was doing.

Dean stubbornly tried to clench him mouth shut and to push Spike away. But, Spike's kiss got to him, like it always had. Dean gave in and started to kiss him back, his fingers gripping and tightening around Spike's shirt.

That's it, luv. Spike didn't ease up, even when Dean capitulated. Using his body to keep him pinned tightly against the wall, he ravaged his mouth, kissing him deeply, fighting, claiming and possessing him on an all-new level that only child and sire could understand. It was intense, and wild, and so bloody fucking arousing, feeling Dean's hunger for blood…for sex… beating at him, calling to him.

The kiss was dragged out longer than anticipated and a panic washed over Dean. Shouldn't he breathe? Where was his heartbeat? His pulse that usually pounded in his ear. The heavy breaths that washed out his nose when he used to kiss Spike this way. Dean gave a whimper of fear. He started to squirm which only added to the friction between their bodies, making Dean burn hotter, making his knuckles turn white as he kept hold of Spike's shirt.

Dean finally managed to tear his mouth away, turning his head away, not able to look at his brother ... afraid his fears would be revealed. Even though he was a vampire, different, he was still Dean and had to be the strong one. For his brother's sake. For the family. But all this was becoming too overwhelming.

"S'alright luv. It's going to be alright," Spike crooned, exerting iron control over his desires. "Sam." When Sam brought another fresh cup, Spike noticed Dean was averting his face. "Don't hide from your brother, Dean. There's no need, yeah? We all decided this is what's right." 

He pulled away, still pressing a hand against Dean's chest to make sure he didn't move away. Was his father talking in his head again, making him feel guilty? Having been in Dean's head, the thought scared him. What if he turned against himself, and against them... what if he listened to that bloody voice that had too much control over him? 

Exchanging worried glances with Sam, he pressed the cup against Dean's lip. "Take a drink. Do it for us... it will make you feel better, take the pain away. You'll think clearer." Tipping the cup, he forced some of the scarlet liquid into Dean's mouth.

Already, Dean's stomach turned. The smell of animal blood was not what his body craved. His teeth ached to sink into flesh. He struggled against the cup forced so hard against his lips that he had to part them. He took the blood in but the first swallow had him violently gagging and spitting it back out. A red trail dribbled down his chin. He tried to push Spike back.

"He doesn't want it. Let him have some of ..." Sam started, getting ready to roll his sleeve up.

"NO!" Dean snapped. His head turned to Spike, "Don't you let me," the snarl came out low and his eyes warned his lover. It was the one thing Dean knew not to do, even though he truly wanted it deep inside.

Spike knew exactly how hard it had to be for Dean to fight his new nature to protect Sam from himself. He'd been going through the same dilemma for weeks... fighting his need to turn Dean until they had no other choice. "Sam, get out." He turned to look at the taller man, "get away... I'll... I've got him."

"GO!?" Dean screamed. "Please," he spoke softly, "Please just go, I don't know..." Dean gripped Spike more firmly feeling the urge to shove him aside and he started to.

Sam's eyes filled with tears and he wanted to argue but he saw Dean's eyes and knew he had to go. As he closed the door behind him, he whispered "Dean." 

Closing his arms around Dean, so tight the newly made vampire couldn't move if he tried, Spike spoke low. "You've got to get some blood into you. Didn't go this far just to lose you to blood lust, you got that? Drink from me. Go on... you can't hurt me." Spike cocked his head to the side, revealing the column of his neck. "Go on. Do it."

Dean resisted at first but then he couldn't any more. His hunger was getting too great and he needed. His mouth opened, fangs sank into flesh, piercing it and the blood started to flow. Dean started to drink with great hunger and he couldn't help his own cock getting hard.

The hunger, the needs of his child washed over Spike. He pressed his throat against Dean's mouth, offering... giving. Their bodies slid together and suddenly he was very aware of Dean's cock pressing against him. Somehow his hands slid down to his lover's ass, he dragged him up harder against him, thrusting, working himself up slowly into a state.

Dean didn't know when to stop, all that was racing through him was blood. The need for it. The hunger for it was so overwhelming and euphoric. He had his eyes closed, his arms around Spike, clutching him tightly. Blood filled his mouth, seeped from his lips, staining both their skins. He shivered and moaned, his arousal building with the friction of the rough fabric of his jeans each time they thrust and rubbed their cocks together.

Dean tried to hang onto that... that feeling, but there was something else strange going on in his head. Now two authoritative voices were arguing... his father and his Sire's.

Monster. The word was sharp and clear, cracking like a whip inside Spike's head. It wasn't even directed at him. It was a deep voice, deeper than Dean's, calling Dean a monster. When it asked Dean what they did to monsters, to demons, Spike had enough. Stop, he mentally shouted, pushing Dean roughly back. 

The hunter's mouth was stained, his eyes were glazed with lust. All Spike could think of was he had to take him away from his father, had to claim him as his. Gripping his shirt, he tore it open and dragged it off his body, using it to wipe Dean's mouth... then the wound on his own throat. 

His eyes burned with a frenzied fire. "Mine. I won't share you. Not with him." He started unbuckling Dean's belt. Not with him..

Dean was confused for a moment. His body jerking with the force of Spike tearing his clothing off. Share him? Share him with whom? Sam? But he loved Sam. Dean jerked again and then felt his body being turned around. "Not with him?" Dean asked over his shoulder still confused but very heavy with arousal.

"Mine," Spike repeated, pressing his hand into Dean's back as he shoved him up against the wall. He ran his hand up and down the rippling muscles he knew so well, his tight, well-formed ass, and his lean abs... touching him, gripping him, telling him with his actions and by the way he used his body to dominate, to force him to stand where and how he wanted, who he belonged to.

Dean was still confused but he wasn't scared even as Spike dominated him, forcing him up against the wall. If anything, it had him surging with desire and with pleasure at the knowledge someone actually cared about him. Not his brother. Not the family, but for him. If Spike only knew how much that meant to him. Maybe he did.

Dropping his pants down, Spike lined his cock up to Dean's hole. He gripped the hunter's shoulder and hip, rubbed against him as he leaned forward and captured his mouth. The taste of blood on Dean's lips was enough to drive Spike into frenzy. "Bloody, fucking hell," he groaned out, surging forward and burying himself to the hilt inside his child, struggling to maintain some semblance of control.

Even as a vampire, Dean almost cried out at the sudden invasion without lube. But the pain was drowned out by Spike's kisses and his swear against his lips. Dean shuddered, his cock scraping wood where the plaster was worn off, another new sensation Dean found he liked. He was realizing he liked things with more intensity. Spike was intense. His eyes. His resolve. And God, he was more than that the way he started to fuck him, claiming him with rough, harsh movements. Dean didn't hold back on his own swearing, even as his nails scratched into the wood, leaving deep marks. "Spike."

Burning to own, to possess, to wrest from John Winchester's control the man he'd fallen for so hard, he'd do anything, Spike found every word that broke from Dean's mouth ratcheted his lust up a notch, made the pressure build until he thought he would explode... and then he'd go higher. "Mine," he sucked hard on Dean's tongue, and bit his lower lip, then moved his mouth over his broad shoulder. "Mine..." he bit again, fucking him so hard, they were banging into the wall with each powerful piston-like move of his hips. Plaster rained down on them, covering them each time Dean was slammed against the wall.

Dean's cheek rubbed against the wood, his chest, even his cock was getting rubbed raw. The wall begged creaked, all but begging them to stop. Dean rocked with each shove into him. With each claiming, he hissed out his pleasure. The word Mine, repeated so many times in his head, it drowned drowning out the other voice.

"Mine," Spike shouted, gripping his lover tight as he shuddered and came deep inside Dean, harder than he ever thought possible.

When Spike released, shouting so it filled the room, Dean felt an explosion inside himself. He released against the wall, letting out a cry of his own as his head dropped back against his new father's shoulder. It was off... not to be panting for breath. Not to hear his heart still beating in his ear. "I'm yours," he finally voiced after trying to accept the lack of labored breaths between them.

Emotion roared inside Spike's chest. Now gentle, he turned Dean around to face him... held him, kissing, his jaw, his throat... worshipping him with his mouth. "And I'm yours, Dean. Never bleeding said that to anyone else. Yours." Gathering him close, he spoke against his ear. "Going to be tough the next few weeks, but we're going to make it, yeah? You, me... Sam. Just have to trust me."

Dean didn't even think he heard that from his father. That much love in his voice. Dean closed his eyes, holding Spike tightly. He didn't realize just how hard he was holding on, he just knew he couldn't let him go.

Long moments passed.

He swallowed and nodded, trying to be tough suddenly over the whole thing. "Yeah, I guess it will be." Dean pulled away slowly, reaching down to pull his pants up. "But did it stave off the hounds? What is inside me now?" He asked.

Hard questions, he should have known they'd get back to that. "Demon. Like the one I've got inside," Spike answered. "Trick is to keep it under control. It'll be easy once we get your soul. Until then, you can't let yourself get hungry. Feel how much more control you have now?"

Spike zipped up, his gaze never leaving Dean's face, trying to see how his words were affecting that complicated man of his. "If you find yourself losing it, think of Sam." He knew Dean's weak point, knew what it took to bring him back from the brink. "Think of how he needs you, in his life... in his destiny." Then he smirked, "if that doesn't work, think of me fucking you so hard, think of me holding you so tight, you think you're going to die... again."

Dean nodded as Spike spoke and he pulled on his tattered shirt. He allowed it to hang open and looked down at the scratches on his chest and saw them closing up. "Kewl." He looked at the vampire before him and he gave a nod. Sam was always his grounding. Since childhood.

And now he had Spike.

"Spike, can I think of that anyway?" He offered up a weak grin. "Okay," he scratched at his chest, "What is next? Where is Sam?" Dean was trying to act as normal as he could but he felt like a mess inside.

"You can think of that any time. Problem is, your body will too... Tireless can be tiresome when you're walking around with blue balls," Spike smirked, he walked across the small room to the door. 

"Listen. Draw air in and smell. Can you hear him? A few feet outside the door?" Spike put his hand on the handle.

Dean gave Spike a look that asked 'why can't you just fucking tell me,' but he stopped from rolling his eyes then drew a breath through his nose. His lungs suddenly ached and he tried to ignore it as the musky smell of his brother invaded his senses. He could smell the coffee that was around him and his clothing. He heard his heart beating. And then he heard soft words, his name whispered.

"Yeah," Dean walked over. "He said my name. He's worried isn't he?"

Spike gripped his arm. "He's hurting too. Needs time to adjust to this, be careful what you say or do." Releasing him, he opened the door for Dean, letting him walk out alone, but keeping his eyes focused on him as he approached his brother. He knew Dean was looking for acceptance, and that Sam knew him better than anyone. He just had to trust he'd give him what he needed.


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as the door of the cabin opened, Sam turned around quickly and faced his brother. The blood that still stained Dean's skin was a strong reminder of how different things were now. He wanted to rush to his brother, to hold him tight, but the Dean he knew would make a face and blow it off, tell him to knock off the chick flick moments. Instead, Sam sadly tipped his head toward his brother.

Dean walked closer, "I... I'm okay." He gave a slight shrug. "Not gonna snack on ya." 

Sam closed the distance between them. He wanted to tell Dean he wasn't okay. He didn't have a soul. He was a vampire. But instead, he silently placed his hand on Dean's shoulder. 

"Wanna head in. You look tired," Dean held his brother's eyes. Sam nodded and the two turned walked back inside. 

"So when I died, Did I look good?" 

The tension left Spike’s body. They weren’t in the clear, but this felt normal. “Stroke his ego, before he asks you to stroke something else,” he suggested. 

“Only cause you want to watch," Dean tapped Spike on the chest in passing. "I think we better head out, at least leave this place, find another, just in case." 

Sam yawned, "We need to get more blood too." He looked to Spike, "We do, don't we?" 

Spike nodded. “We’ll try again later.” Traveling at night was a good idea, now that Dean was allergic to sunlight too. Spike couldn’t imagine him happy with his brother at the wheel for too many hours on end, while he hid from the sun in the back and under a blanket. 

 

He started helping to collect their things, tossing a weapon filled duffel toward Dean. “Don’t make that face. You’ll get used to it.” 

"Says you," Dean made another face and headed out to the car.

"You can sleep in the back Sammy," Dean told him. "Spike and I will take care of the rest." He gripped Sam's shoulder, wordlessly communicating his thanks...for being there and caring. Understanding. For not leaving him. So many things. 

Dean drove a good while. Sam crammed into the back seat and for once, Dean didn't play the radio, letting his brother actually sleep. "So how do we get my soul back?" Dean asked.

The fact that Dean was interested in regaining his soul was a big stride in the right direction. Though Spike had hoped that his deeply ingrained love for Sam and years of doing what was right, mostly, would stick with him after he turned, he knew damned well it could have gone differently. There were many priests and pacifists turned vampires who’d wreaked havoc on the human population, who destroyed the families they loved, and who kept nothing of their humanity. 

Spike turned to him, studied his profile. He almost looked normal... acted normal... which meant deep down, it was complicated. He’d learned the more stoic Dean looked, the more he was fighting emotional battles hidden from everyone else’s view. 

Eventually, he answered. "Same way as we get everything else... we fight for it." There was no 'we' in that. Not really. "You fight for it." Running his hand over his face, Spike leaned back and stared out at the highway. "We're going to the Ozarks. Arkansas. Have to find a Shaman who knows these things. Won't be easy, but we'll be there with you." He tried not to think of the pain in the process... holy water of a different sort burning his insides... of skin peeling back revealing flesh and bone. Of how many times he'd wanted to quit. But his hunter wasn't going to quit, he bloody well wouldn't let him.

Dean quirked an eyebrow, "Ozarks? Arkansas? Dude, are you talking about that old Shaman with the really nasty spirit water? Piss ass moonshine that is like drinking paint thinner. Um ... Something Bear or Feather ... I think our father saw him a few times." Dean glanced in the rear view mirror, hiding the fear inside him. He had to keep things together. Keep control over his emotions and not let them see just how scared he was of what was happening to him.

 

He thought back on that horrible pit in his stomach that formed when his father was telling him goodbye. That pit was still there and it was growing. Spreading like the night creeping across the Earth. He glanced at Spike before looking back out the window. "You’re scared I'm gonna become like you were once. William the Bloody."

"No. I won't let you," Spike answered vehemently, pressing his lips together and mentally cursing the hunter's perception. Relax. Right, change that to act relaxed. "Besides, Dean the Bloody... doesn't quite have the same ring to it, yeah?" He put his hand on Dean's shoulder, gripping it. "Remember what I told you, what to concentrate on if you feel the ... if you feel _it_ stirring inside, demanding something you don't want. You can control it, I'll help you." 

He knew Dean had to be wondering why Spike hadn't been able to control himself, why most vampire's didn't... if it was possible. "I had a... a different example to follow. From the minute I was turned, I was thrown into games... chasing humans, feeding on them... competing for who could do his or her worst. You won't be like I was back then. We'll get to the Shaman and make you right."

 

Dean stared ahead, Spike's voice penetrating the fog that tried to cloud his judgment. He thought back to his father. The steps he took to put Dean on the track he wanted him on. It was a haunting feeling that made the pit in his stomach bleed further out. Made him want to buck what Spike was saying. To go against him and for once, make his own decisions... his own stand. 

Softly he muttered, "Was I even right to begin with?" And the dark voice in his head with black eyes answered for him, _No. Never._

“Right for me.” Spike put his hand on Dean’s thigh, squeezing... giving him a focal point, if that was what he needed. “Right for Sam. If you were anyone else, Dean, you’d have lost him a long time ago. And I’d still be... trolling for a life with someone who would never come.” 

Dean wanted to shrug off that hand. Like he wasn’t worthy of being touched. Tainted. Dirty. Only good enough for the darker things that lurked in the shadows with red, black or yellow eyes. Not even his own father would touch him. Hell, even as a child, Dean had been hungry for that love, but it was all given to Sam. 

He turned his head to Spike. "Maybe for you. But Sam, he just doesn't know any better. And I have lost him before." As if Spike didn’t know that. 

“Stop the car.” Spike gave him a penetrating look. “Pull the bloody hell over.” 

"What?" Dean instantly reacted and pulled the car over on the road, gravel kicking up off the shoulder. Dean left the car running as he looked at Spike, wondering what the hell it was all about? 

Sam blinked, the motion of the car stopping waking him. "What? What's going on?" 

“Get out of the car,” he told Dean as he opened the passenger door. “You stay inside. Go back to sleep, just need a word with your brother.” 

Sam rubbed his eyes but he was already reaching for the door handle. 

"Sammy, stay here," Dean was already climbing out of the car. 

"Fuck that," Sam answered as he unfolded his tall length from the car. "What is going on?" He demanded watching Dean come around the car. 

Dean stood, a few feet separating him from Spike, his expression stoic and revealing nothing. 

Spike completely ignored Sam. “You think you’re God?” He shoved Dean in the chest, pushing him back, though not as far as he could have before Dean was vamped. “Do you think you’re infallible... should have been bloody infallible?” He was shouting, trying to get through... trying to drown out that other voice he _knew_ had to be driving Dean crazy. 

Dean's lip twitched at the corner. He merely moved a foot back but then stood his ground, his eyes darkening. 

Sam stepped to his brother’s defense, "Damnit, we stopped because you want to argue?" Sam snapped. 

“Sodding hell, I know what I’m doing. If you can’t take it, get inside the car, get pissed, do what you need to, but get a hold of yourself,” he barked at Sam, then turned to Dean, this time gripping his collar and pulling him forward. 

“Answer me. Why should you be different from the rest of us? What makes you think you could control every situation? Are you better than us... or are you looking for an excuse to wallow in your sorrow? Is that it?” He cocked his head, challenging his child to answer. 

Dean glared, "And what makes you think you will be any better a 'father' than my own was?" 

Sam bit back his words and stared at his brother. Dean had always had mixed emotions about their father since he disappeared on them a couple of years ago. Sam always thought Dean was John's puppet but things had become clearer to him about that relationship in recent times. 

"Spike, don't do this." Sam half pleaded in a whisper. It was gonna be a losing battle. 

“Are you looking for a daddy, Dean?” A muscle twitched in Spike’s jaw. “You want someone to tell you all the ways you’ve gone wrong? Done wrong? Is that it.” He jerked Dean’s collar, angry at the comparison. “You think I’m going to be that man?” 

Dean’s entire body moved with each tug on his clothes. "You're getting off to a good start," Dean answered. "Besides, I want a father figure, I have Bobby." That should stab the vampire. 

"Stop it! Just stop it you two. We don't have time for this," Sam tried to step between them. 

Using one arm, Spike shoved Sam out of the way. “You don’t need a bloody father figure. They don’t know what you need... none of them do, not like me.” He pulled Dean up flush against his body, muscle pressed against hard muscle, chest against chest. Eyes drilling into _his_ boy’s greens, he willed him to listen... to hear only him... to drown out that other voice. 

"And how do you know what I need?" Dean suddenly shoved Spike back, "And don't you touch my brother!" He snarled. That was one thing no one did, push his brother around... not in his presence. 

“Then tell your brother to keep out of this.” Spike’s voice was low and edged with iron. He started to walk, bodily pushing Dean, forcing him back one step at a time toward the car. “This isn’t about him. This is about you. Stop beating yourself up. Stop making up reasons to hate yourself. Look at me.” He had Dean’s back pressed against the Impala now. “Do you know how many fledgling vampires can control themselves? Won’t attack their family? You can count them on _one_ hand. You must have done something right. Something to be proud of. Find it. Find it inside you, fight the darkness... or it will eat you up.” 

Dean felt the coolness of the car against his back. The feel of his car, which was once his father's. But as Spike spoke and pressed up against him, Dean felt his body tremble and he couldn't help it. He shifted his eyes toward Sam. That look in his brother's eyes. "I raised Sam," Dean answered. He looked back to Spike, "And I killed the demon that killed my mother." 

Relief started to flow though Spike’s body. He’d known Dean would be difficult, and he tried to remain confident that he could keep him from going off kilter until they had his soul. But fear ate at the vampire, as sure as that demon who was staining... eating Dean from up from the inside. “You did all that. And you saved Sam,” he knew that was the most important thing to Dean. “You gave your life for him. There’s more right than wrong in the things you’ve done.” 

He felt Dean’s body react to his and smirked. He was still his hunter. All he had to do was fight just a bit longer. 

Even as Spike smirked. Even as Dean's body responded to his closeness, he pushed Spike back. "Two wrongs don't make a right," he snarled. "Get in the car, Sam." 

"Dean," Sam reached for his brother, catching his arm. "Dean, before, you never were given a choice. Always forced. Always told what to do. But when you gave your life for mine, you did what was inside you. What you felt was right. That was your choice." 

"No, Sam," Dean snapped back. "I did it because I couldn't let Dad down. He told me to protect you. He always did. I had to." 

Spike snapped. “You do everything for your father, do you? His little soldier boy?” In a split second he’d reached inside Dean’s waistband and pulled out the hunter’s knife. He pressed the hilt into Dean’s hand, then pushed his hand up... bringing the blade to his own throat. “What does your father say ‘bout me, in that head of yours? Go on soldier boy... if that’s _all_ you are, then you’ll bloody fucking well do it.” He arched his neck, challenging Dean. 

Sam exploded, grabbing Spike by the back of his own collar and tossing him back. "Goddamnit!" 

Dean was still gripping the blade and his knuckles were turning white. Spike didn't know just how close he’d been to doing it. If he were breathing, his breaths would have been quick and harsh. 

"Do NOT use our father against him," Sam's eyes flared as he bore down on Spike. 

Dean pushed around Sam and moved over to Spike. 

"If I did what my father was saying in my head, the first time we met, I would have killed you." He held out the knife to Spike. 

“Just one of you at a time, yeah?” Spike rubbed the back of his neck, and took the knife. “You didn’t listen to him then, and you weren’t listening to him when you brought Sam back. You were listening to you. I hope you get that through your thick head some time before you self destruct. Get back to the car. Sooner we get to the Shaman, the better.” 

As he passed Sam, he whispered. “What do you think the demon inside him is doing? It’s using your father to turn him against us. Turn him into predator... into vampire... Your father’s memory is a _weapon._ Get used to it.” 

"You don't think I know that?" Sam answered. "Azazel used that against us both." He followed but stopped when Dean reached him. "Dean, we fought demons all our lives, don't let the one inside you win." He gave a little worried smile, "I don't know what I would do without my big brother around." 

The look on his brother’s face had to be the mirror image of his, when he’d been staring down into Sam’s lifeless body. "I'm trying, Sammy." He moved to the passenger door and leaned down toward Spike. He grabbed his collar and pulled him close for a quick, hard kiss. "Just for your information," he whispered so only vampire ears could hear, "I've been in self destruct mode since our father gave up his soul for mine." 

He pulled back and walked around the car, climbing in to put his baby into gear and spitting rocks from her tires to get them headed off again. 

Alright. They had him back. Little steps. Little wins. That’s what Spike was going for, just to buy some time until they got to the Ozarks. But he’d caught a glimpse of the darkness in Dean’s eyes. He knew for sure now he couldn’t be left alone. Worse... he’d have to use restraints when he couldn’t watch over him. Sam.... Sam wasn’t going to take to that.

* * *   
They’d driven all night, and then stopped at an old abandoned amusement park. At times during the drive, it had been just like the old days. There was joking, and insults, and way too much sexual innuendo coming from the front seats. But there were the quiet times too, times when Spike and Sam in turn watched Dean, wondered about the battles he might be fighting inside his head. 

He’d caught them at if a few times too. Gave them ‘what the fuck’ looks, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. They were all worried, they’d be fools not to be. 

Sam had left them at the amusement park and driven off to get gas, some supplies, and a trip to the veterinarian for blood and tranquilizers before the place opened for business. It was just Spike’s luck that he’d returned so fast... Spike heard the Impala park outside the back room of one of the rides, where they’d decided to hole up. Sonova... well he’d just have to get used to it. 

* 

Sam closed the car door, the familiar creak of the car door comforting. In his arms, he had a bag filled with supplies, including a couple of dog biscuits he couldn’t wait to offer to Spike. He’d also had some breakfast and pie. He had that just for Dean. 

He stepped up the stairs, pausing as he looked around at the eerily quiet park. Why did Spike have to pick an amusement park? And why did Dean let him? Oh yeah, he knew why. 

The clowns. 

Dean had been grinning the whole time as they drove in. Sam hated clowns. Was scared of them. And the case they’d worked on involving a clown hadn’t eased his fears either. Pulling open the door, he stopped dead in his track and stared at the sight before him 

It wasn’t as if Spike was pleased, leaning over a knocked out Dean. Blood stained the corner of his lip, its scent teasing Spike’s sharpened senses. Forcing himself to concentrate, he grabbed a length of chain. 

"What the hell happened?" Sam demanded.

“The demon was winning this round. Had to knock him out. He might be in a mood when he wakes.” He saw the anguish in Sam’s eyes. “Not doing this to torture him. If he were anyone else... someone without his skills, it wouldn’t be a problem. But this is Dean, and if he puts his mind to it... you know he can get away, or worse.” 

Sam put the stuff down and went over, lifting Dean up and into the chair. "Will these chains hold him?" He asked. 

“They’ll have to. And we’ll be here.” Spike moved to the machinery that ran the ride on the other side of the wall, and looped the metal chain around it to use it as an anchor, then came back. He slipped one of the boys’ handcuffs through a link, then braceleted Dean’s right hand. Using a second pair of cuffs, he did the same to his other wrist. “So he can stand... walk around... sleep,” he explained. “He’ll take being chained hard enough... if he couldn’t move...” 

Sam stood back, staring at his brother, chained and cuffed, then glanced over at Spike, "This is not quiet the image or reason you were probably thinking of doing that to him huh?" He gave a forced smile. 

Dean groaned and then opened his eyes, his vision blurred and his eyes stung with dried blood. He looked around and then raised his hand, realizing it was heavy. He looked down at it then jerked. He jerked again, hearing the chains rattle. "What the fuck!" 

He’d been about to tease Sam about his imagination, but all thoughts of joking scattered when Dean came awake. Spike dropped to his knees next to the seated hunter. “It’s alright luv. Just a precaution.” Cupping his face, he asked. “Do you remember what you did?” 

Dean jerked his head away, "Precaution? Fuckin' bullshit." 

"Dean, what happened?" Sam asked. 

Dean jerked his other arm finding it chained up as well. "Let me go." He narrowed his eyes at Spike. 

“Don’t remember, do you?” He ran his thumb over the angry hunters mouth, “look. It’s not so bad. You can get up, move about. Let’s get some food into you and things will clear up, here,” he touched Dean’s temple, then bent his head and kissed his forehead lightly. 

Dean turned his head so the lips ended up at his temple. "Let me go." He stood up, still angry. It showed in his thunderous expression and his fangs started to extend as well. 

Sam looked at Spike, "Did you search him? Get his lock picks and the paperclips?" 

"Shut up, Sam," Dean snarled. 

“No. Help me,” he moved behind Dean and loosely held one of his arms as he started to search his back pockets. “Dean, calm down. You went a bit sideways... you’ve got to find your center again, yeah?” 

Dean tried to turn. Tried to pull his arm away. "Sideways? Is that a new word for it? Why don't you just ..." he paused, batting at Sam's hand. "Hey, give me ..." He tried to grab for the paperclip. 

Gripping Dean’s belt, Spike pulled him back, up hard against the front of his body. He wrapped both arms around him, held him tight. “Finish it up,” he told Sam, moving his mouth up the side of Dean’s neck. “Let him finish. Then we’ll get some food in you. Then...” he nipped him, and licked him to sooth the pain. 

Dean hissed then struggled for a moment before rolling his eyes and just giving in. Sam had found all his paperclips and took his lock pick kit. Dammit... he couldn't keep his body from responding. He shifted a bit, rubbing his hips back a little. 

"Gottem," Sam backed up. He went over to the bags he’d brought in and started to pour a cup of fresh blood. 

“Shshsh,” leaning forward, Spike kissed Dean, aware from the fierce response that the hunter was still angry. “S’alright luv. Told you before, we’re getting through this,” he crooned, slowly releasing him. 

"No, it's not alright," Dean snapped. "I feel like some criminal. I didn't do anything!" He gave a good tug at the chains and they rattled. 

Sam stood staring at his brother with the cup in hand. "It's just a ..." 

"No. Don't you say it," Dean glared at his brother. 

“Bloody sexy, is what it is.” Moving around to face Dean, Spike ran his heated gaze down and up Dean’s body. “Even Sam think so, isn’t that right?” Daze and confuse, it was the only trick he had up his sleeve at the moment. 

Reaching for the mug, and prepared for a tantrum, he brought it close to Dean’s mouth. “Let’s get this in you. You felt better the last time you fed, remember?” He put one hand behind Dean’s head, and pressed the cup to his mouth. 

Dean kept his lips closed, his eyes glaring and he kicked Spike in the shin. "Yeah, remember how that went?" He kicked him again. 

“Dean!" Sam saw the blood spill, spreading in a pool of red. 

“Sonova... try godamnit. At least try,” Spike snarled, roughly pushing Dean down onto the chair. There was a struggle, hard but brief, ending with Spike straddling Dean’s hips, with Dean’s hands trapped between his thighs and Dean’s own. “You’re taking it, damn you...” 

 

With one hand, Spike forced Dean’s head back, and with the other, he brought the quarter filled cup to his mouth and forced it between Dean’s lips. “Swallow... bloody hell man, it won’t kill you, but I might.” 

Dean choked, feeling the liquid going down his throat. There was a strange flavor to it but he had to swallow because the panic and urge to breathe was still there. He tried to spit some of it up but ended up choking before he turned his head away, coughing. 

Sam had a hard time watching and had to look away for a moment. But he would glance back now and again. He went to get the cup to put more in it. 

Spike was more shaken than he cared to admit. Was he being John Winchester all over again? Sodding hell... he was just doing his best, he knew how much worse it would be if Dean got a taste for human blood. And he knew Dean would get used to this, if he bloody well tried. 

That knowledge didn’t make it hurt any less when he forced more down his throat, or when the gurgling sounds Dean made sounded like he was being drowned. Tears stung his eyes, spilled out the way the blood spilled out of the corners of Dean’s mouth. His nerveless fingers released the cup, allowing it to fall to the ground and shatter. 

Dean coughed again then looked at Spike. He couldn't say anything but just gazed at him like a little boy. And then he looked away. 

Sam came over, touching Spike on the shoulder, trying to draw him back. "C'mon, Spike, get off him." His words were softy spoken. 

Numbly, Spike nodded, then leaned in and whispered against Dean’s ear. “Don’t hate me.” Swallowing hard, he got up, turning away from both men and wiped all remaining signs of weakness from his eyes. Dean would feel better in a few moments. Then everything would be right. 

Sam watched. The emotions were thick in the air. Stiffling. If opening a window would make a difference he would have. 

Dean looked everywhere but at the two men. His stomach turned. He didn't feel well. Spike had told him he would feel better but he wasn't. Something wasn't right. "What was in that blood? I don't ..." Dean couldn't even finish as he started coughing, gagging then threw up. 

Sam jumped back and made a face. 

What the bloody hell was the matter. Why couldn't he keep it down? It wasn't as if he'd tasted better... tasted human blood. Spike pushed the chair that Dean was sitting on away from the mess on the ground. "'S'alright. You'll drink from me," he said, running his hand down the side of Dean's face, pulling him close against his belly for a moment. 

 

Dean still felt sick even as Spike caressed him. He laid his head against the other vampire and closed his eyes. Secretly inside, he had longed for his father to hold him like this. To comfort him in times when he was really scared. And Dean was scared. Now his 'new father' was doing what his real father couldn't do.

And it wasn't lost on Sam either. He saw the reaction. Spike did the right thing. But what didn't set well with Sam was the fact Dean had to drink from Spike. Something was wrong with his brother, besides just not being able to hold down animal blood.

Spike finally detached himself from Dean and stepped away, returning with wet towels. He gently wiped Dean's mouth and then gave him a cup of water. Unlike humans, a vampire's body broke down blood and food, which was the reason soon after drinking blood... no trace of it was left on a vampire's tongue. 

Exchanging looks with Sam, he dropped down to the ground and cleaned up all signs of Dean's inability to hold the animal blood. "We'll try again tomorrow," he said, dreading that moment already. 

Dean drank the water holding the cup. He lifted his head to look at Spike, "It's not gonna work."

 

"You have to try, Dean. You can't just keep feeding off Spike. And we don't even know if this really worked. It might have put the hounds at bay but for how long?

 

"He'll get used to it. It's... it's not natural to him, animal blood." Spike knew damn well that if it were human blood that they'd been offering to Dean, he'd have no trouble with it. But since the neo vamp had never had blood of a different sort, he thought he ought to get used to it right quick enough. "S'alright luv, I'll feed you for as long as you need. Just worried bout those times when I'm not around, yeah? Want you self sufficient." And not murderously hungry, he thought, but kept it to himself.

Sam looked at Spike as if he was clearly stating an obvious fact. He looked back to his brother, who still looked more pale than normal. Sam was beginning to wonder if this was even the right thing or did they just mess things up even more. "And if he doesn't?" It was a question that didn't need an answer.

Dean looked at his chains then over to Spike. Was this gonna be his life even around his brother? Feeding off his lover and being chained up if he was alone with Sam so as not to attack him because now, it was in his nature. He flashed back to when they fought Gordon, juiced up as a vampire and what he was like. Dean wondered if he would become like that. He didn't want to but was it inevitable?

"Self sufficient and not a killer like Gordon. Or what you used to be." Dean stated plainly, and it wasn’t a question. 

"You should feed him," Sam indicated to Dean before going to head out, "I'll wait outside."

"We might be a while, Sam." Spike watched as Sam walked out into the park and the door clicked shut behind him, blocking the daylight that had been visible for a moment and leaving behind only darkness. He couldn't help wondering if what bothered Sam was seeing his brother chained, or the feeding itself. He could see how both would be disconcerting.


	5. Chapter 5

"Dean. You threatened to walk into the sunshine. I..." Spike touched the manacles around Dean's wrists, "... couldn't risk that, yeah?" He knew Dean had gone beserk due to blood lust. "You threatened yourself, not anyone else. You're still in control."

Dean waited till Sam was outside, then turned toward Spike, looking him over. He was still hungry but there was something that picked and carved at him. It wasn't as bad as the need for the blood which pounded at his temples and in his gut. But what was bothering him was that he smelled Sam. Sam on Spike. He was starting to get the sense it wasn't just due to mere closeness or contact.

It was something more.

And that fact alone had Dean grinding his teeth. All sorts of thoughts filled his head. Spike feeding off his brother. Sam dying at the hands of the man who made him. And worse, making Sam like him.

Dean stared intently at Spike, "Did you touch my brother?" The question came out calm but anger edged his voice.

Spike's gaze locked with Dean's. "I always touch your brother." 

Instantly, the tension grew thicker between them. "You've got to feed now, we'll talk after," he said, moving close and unbuttoning his shirt. "Keep in control."

Dean shot up from the chair, his legs knocking it over. The chains tugged his arms back and held. His jaw locked, the muscle on one side twitched. "You know that's not what I meant. Did. You. Touch. Him?" Dean was determined to get an answer.

Though the chains were quite long and allowed Dean to move around approximately half of the span of the room, Spike was just a few inches out of his reach. His child was just starting to understand what his sharper senses were telling him.

Reaching out, he touched Dean's throbbing muscle, never looking away. "I can feel your hunger. It's sodding making you crazy. You need to eat first, then we'll talk."

"ANSWER ME!" Dean snapped, anger shooting from his eye. He made no move to feed though hunger gnawed at him. Instead, he jerked his head away from Spike's touch, glaring.

The rage roiling off Dean wasn't all his. The demon was feeding it, and Spike would have none of that. Stepping into the hunter's space, he gripped his collar and pulled him close. "I'll answer you, when you're YOU." Leaning forward, he forced the side of his throat across Dean's mouth. "Take—"

Underestimating Dean's ability to fight blood lust was a mistake. A blinding head butt sent Spike reeling back, but his arm was quickly caught in Dean's vice like grip and he was jerked back. This time a manacled wrist slammed into his face.

"Sodding hell." He tried to push Dean back, tried not to hurt him, but the hunter wasn't listening or pulling his punches. The curses that erupted from Dean punctuated every hit, each time he managed to get his elbow or fist to connect, until Spike had enough.

"Bastard..." Moving behind Dean, he pulled the hunter back closer to the machinery that he was chained to. The minute there was enough loose length of chain, Spike grabbed it and wrapped it around Dean, pinning his arms to his body. He wrapped his own arms around Dean over the chains and dragged his tongue up the side of his throat. "Feel me," he pressed up against Dean's arse. "Want me... my blood...want this," he nudged his hardening cock along his lover's crack.

Dean growled and swore again. The chains were biting into his skin and he was unable to move except to flinch at the feel of Spike's tongue on him.

He turned his head away, "You aren't answering me," he hissed out. "I won't till you answer me." Dean turned his head toward Spike, letting him see the full force of his anger to make his point.

"Stubborn git." Struggling to keep Dean trapped, Spike forced both of them down as he bent to reach for the dagger in his boot. Then they were standing again, and he'd sliced a small gash at the side of his throat.

He felt Dean tense against him. Felt his hunger ... his craving intensify. He was still fighting it though. "Right. You want answers? Want to know how your brother reacted? How I felt? You really want to know," he tightened the chain as he pulled Dean up hard against his now raging hard on. "Find out yourself. Get inside my mind and find out..." he leaned in, smearing the blood from his throat across Dean's cheek as he tried to aim for his mouth.

Dean could smell the iron. Could nearly taste it on his lips. His mouth watered. He wanted. His body wanted. Needed. It was hard to control. Hard to push down, but Dean was stubborn. He wanted to hear it from Spike. "Just tell me," he growled out, turning away.

The silence was too much. Dean swallowed hard, his lips twitching. He closed his eyes tight, clenching his jaw closed even as he felt his fangs extending. Worse was the effort it took to try to ignore the hard cock pressing against him. "Please, just fucking tell me."

Spike wanted to, would have, but it was what Dean's demon wanted... it would exploit Dean's hunger and needs, it would push him beyond rage and make it impossible for the hunter to see logic... to respond as Dean would if he were himself. "Sorry luv, can't do that," he said, loosening the chain slightly so that he was able to push a length of it over his lover's groin. As he stroked him, his palm and the hard metal brushed up against Dean's zipper. "Let me fuck you. Let me show you."

Dean gave a little sound deep in his throat even as he tried to swallow it down. He turned his head and his lips parted. Another little sound came from him. He allowed his tongue to lick at the blood and a flash of Sam's face was before him.

With his eyes shut, Dean closed his mouth over the cut and started feeding. He gave a sound of pleasure as his own cock surged and filled.

Once Dean's mouth latched onto his neck, Spike knew there was no turning back. The sting was nothing compared to the erotic sensations searing his veins with each increasingly desperate pull from Dean.

The feel of Dean fucking the chain and his palm was making Spike so hot he started to thrust harder, seeking some relief for his aching cock. Between that, and the tentative touches of Dean's mind, he thought he was going to go mad.

He tried to concentrate... tried to show Dean how Sam had been, how he'd needed to feel... how he'd burned for the next touch of Spike's hand, and the next. How he'd used it to take his mind off the death of his brother.

Dean's hips moved, trying to get the friction he needed. More of it. Spike's hand and the chain wasn't enough and the hard pressure of Spike's cock behind him... made him want more. His fingers flexed, wanting to touch Spike, wanting to hold him tight, to feel him up.

His blood was heady… intoxicating. Dean drank with increasing hunger, and then the flashes of his brother's face started again. Kissing Spike, touching him. Caressing him. A desperate need reflected from Sam's eyes, but something was off. His eyes were sad and there was no fear in them, but there was something else. Something Spike wasn't revealing to him.

"Want me inside your pants?" Spike asked hoarsely, groaning as Dean greedily took his lifeblood. "Need to fuck you so bad." There he was, the Dean he knew... struggling to touch him, excited and frustrated by his inability to get at him. So hot... so fucking hot, and they weren't even skin to skin yet.

Raising the intensity, Spike flashed on the naked desire in Sam's eyes when he'd been near release. That was it. Dean moved so fast that Spike tripped backwards and hit a lever coming out of the wall.

The sound of a bell filled the room, and was followed by music... from the carousel, and the other rides. "Bugger... Dean!" he pulled his lover away from a moving part and started to unwind the chain that kept his arms pinned.

Dean's mouth pulled from Spike's neck, blood flowing from the wound as they parted. He was able to move now and it was all he needed. The image of Sam's desire clear in his mind, he grabbed Spike and pushed him back against something, anything while he pulled at his clothing. "Just shut up and get your pants down, damnit," Dean growled as he tore open Spike's shirt.

His hands, though still chained pushed and pinned Spike back. His mouth covered Spike's in a kiss, hungry and needy. He devoured him before dropping his mouth down to his neck to feed again while he pulled at Spike's belt and got his pants open and shoved his hand inside, curling it around Spike's stiff cock.

"They're down," Spike groaned, thrusting into Dean's hand. "Fuck..." Now he was the one tearing at Dean's clothes, realizing he couldn't get his shirt or tee off because of the damned manacles. Pushing his hands under the tight tee, he groped and rubbed the pads of his thumbs up and down the ridges and valleys of the muscles near his pelvis.

The sound of metal grating against metal had Spike looking up. A crane-like metal arm was coming down toward them. He dragged Dean to the ground, and the metal arm started to go back, pumping up and down.

He was sprawled on top of Dean, still fucking his fist. Needing... wanting him. "Enough, no more blood," he said, trying to kiss him, but knowing Dean wasn't done looking into the images that were still flashing in his head through the blood connection.

Dean was pinned, his hand stuck between their bodies. He swore and pushed his hips but when Spike stopped him from feeding, he gripped his cock stopping Spike's fucking. He licked his lips, wanting to see more images of his brother. Needing to figure out what was under that expression he wore when he was with Spike. 

Closing his mouth over Spike's, he kissed him deeply, tongue fucking him as he tried to push Spike's pants down over his hips. "Want to fuck me? Have me get that same look?"

"Yes.... God... yes," Spike answered, raising his hips until his pants were around his knees. "Fuck..." he couldn't maneuver well. "Take me inside," he demanded, shouting to be heard over the blasted crescendo of music. 

Dean pushed Spike off him, his own jeans were worked down a bit already. "I'll take you," Dean hissed out then shoved hard, knock Spike back. He crawled over him, using his mouth to lick over Spike's cock before closing his mouth over it to use his own spit as lube.

His green eyes glanced up, just briefly before lowering back down, fucking Spike with his mouth. Coating Spike's hard flesh with saliva, Dean made sure it was good and wet.

When Dean started to pull off, instinctively, Spike clapped his hand over the back of Dean's head and pushed him back down. His cock throbbed and ached as he raised his hips and fucked Dean's mouth the way he needed. "Yeah... hell yeah..."

Spike was so lost, he didn't know exactly when Dean moved... when he sat on him and started to impale himself on Spike's cock. His head jerked back at the blinding heat, but there was no protest... he needed this so fucking desperately. As badly as Dean needed blood, as badly as he wanted to see more of the images in his head.

Dean let out a string of swears as he rode Spike's stiff cock. The way Spike was gripping his hips, he couldn't reach Spike's neck, but the thought of fucking his lover till he couldn't move thrilled Dean. Maybe then he could get just a bit more blood and be sated by the time Sam returned.

He gritted his teeth, hammering himself down on his lover, cursing and groaning as Spike's hard cock throbbed deep inside him. Dean started to pump his own cock, trying to get it off, but the image of his brother's face kept appearing... distracting.

Spike steadied Dean... helped him slip into more controlled movements that brought his cock into sharp contact with Dean's prostate. The sounds breaking from Dean's throat told him he was giving his lover what he needed. 

Dean was blinded by pleasure, pain, then pleasure that took him to new heights. Each time they were together, it got better and better. They burned hotter. Fucked harder. Needed more.

"Good... so good," Spike said, "so close.... need to..." Before he said come, the damned machinery was sounding off with another bell announcing the end of a ride. As Spike rammed his hips up and came inside Dean, he felt his lover's mouth suddenly latch onto his throat again... knew he was seeing Sam... let him hear Sam's cry of release.

When he was finally able to sink his fangs deep into Spike's neck, Dean started to come hard, and at the same times took from Spike the memories that were partially hidden. He saw the look on Sam's face and heard his strangled cry as if it were in his own ear. Then a second truth hit him like a ton of bricks. Spike didn't release with Sam. 

Dean had something that was actually his own. Spike. Spike was his first and last, and he didn't have to put his own needs aside to make Sam happy... didn't need to watch Spike come with his brother. He trembled as he pulled his mouth away. He lifted his eyes to Spike, seeing that well fucked, sweaty face. "You didn't come for him."

Spike was still heaving from their exertions. It hadn't exactly been a comfortable fuck, with all the chains and their jeans at their knees, and Dean's tee shirt in the way. But it had been bloody worth it. He smiled, or tried, as he put his arms around Dean and held him close. "You first, Dean. Always," he buried his face in his lover's hair. "Sam... that was about you. It's always about you. Why won't you believe?" he asked.

"Because all my life everything has been about Sammy. Help Sammy. Protect Sammy." Dean didn't flinch from Spike's gaze. "And when I made this deal," Dean paused, remaining silent.

Spike looked into those intense green eyes. "He's afraid of what you'll think about his feelings. For you. I played a bridge of sorts." Licking his lips, he continued. "Don't scare him. I think I know what you want, but even if I'm wrong... don't scare him. You're like his mirror, yeah? You're afraid of what he'll think because of your demon, and he's afraid what you'll think if you know how he feels about you."

He swallowed hard, "I've always loved, Sammy. Always was scared he would leave. And when he did ..." Dean paused again. "He left me because of how he felt?"

Dean remembered that day. Feeling abandoned. Left to deal with this brooding father. Feeling alone.

"Can it work?" Dean asked softly.

"Do you want it to?" Spike countered.

Dean thought for a moment, before answering truthfully, "I don't know. I ..." He pushed up and away from Spike, wanting to leave the comfort of his embrace so he could think and not be distracted. He always felt too comfortable and secure in the vampire's arms. Probably because he was the only one to ever put Dean first.

He pulled his pants up, doing them up then leaning against the wall. The machinery was loud but Dean kind of liked it. It was as if it would drown out anyone trying to hear his thoughts. 

He looked over at Spike, "How long has he ... did you know?"

"I guessed. His reactions... the way he watched when we touched." He stood up, straightening his torn and bloodied clothes and shaking his head. "This isn't going to work. Both have to change, yeah?" He was always smug about the damage they did to their clothes, though Dean protested more often than not.

He crossed the room and retrieved a key he'd hung on a rung on an old shelf that had probably once held fair prizes, then returned and undid the manacles. "You're back to yourself. There are showers a few bungalows down. We'll need to stick to the shadows, and make a run for it."

Rubbing his eyes, he looked at Dean. "No need to decide now. Don't have to acknowledge you know, not until you're ready. But be careful, the demon will use this against you. It's why you need to stay fed Dean. When you're hungry, you're that much more vulnerable to it. It will make you say and do things... some things are harder to come back from then others." He ought to know. Dean's words had driven him away once.

Dean looked down at his clothing, not so much worse for wear than what he did to Spike's. "Should wait till Sammy comes back so he doesn't freak." Dean answered, rubbing his wrists. He looked down at the ground then up at Spike when he talked about the demon. "It wouldn't be the first time a demon tried to do that." He started to head over to his bag, then paused. "I have a question." He turned and faced Spike. "What would happen to us if, I'm saying if, it were possible to exorcise this demon from us?"

"It's what keeps us animated... alive. Without it," Spike shrugged. "We'd be permanently dead." He snaked his hand out and pulled Dean closer by his waistband. "There's no going back, Dean. But it's not that bad. Wait until tonight. I'm going to show you how to fly."

Dean steadied himself, but the touch of Spike's body against his already inflamed his senses. "Can't blame a demon hunter for askin', can ya?" He gave a casual little shrug, but his gaze clung to Spike's mouth, until his words sank in.

"Fly?" His eyes went wide. "Oh no. No, no, no, no, I don't do the flying thing." He shook his head and tried to step back but Spike held him firm. "I hate flying." The words were stubbornly muttered.

"And about Sam... do what I told you, listen... smell... feel where he is."

Then Dean heard it. That heart beat he knew too well. Memorized since he was a kid. Feeling it beat against his heart as he would hold Sam while he slept. Right now, he could hear his breathing, a turn of a page, more breathing. Sam was researching again. Probably about vampires, getting his soul back and about this shaman.

"He's in the Impala. And I didn't need my sense to tell you that." He realized even without listening for his heart beat, he would have been able to guess his brother's location... it had always been this way, he just ... just knew.

"Mmm, right then. But about that flying... You won't be able to help it you know? The instinct to turn into a bat?" He rested his hand on Dean's arse. "You'll make a fine bat, with nice tail feathers, yeah?" Did bats have tail feathers? He had no bloody idea.

Dean looked at him for a moment as if he was serious, till he said tail feather. "You are such an ass." He pushed him back. "You know even our father knew that part wasn't true. And bats don't have feathers." He started heading for the exit, "C'mon, shower, remember."


	6. Chapter 6

“Sunshine, remember?” Making sure his lover clung to the walls and shadows, Spike gave him a jacket to use as cover during the short jump they’d need to make between buildings to reach the showers. “Wave at Sam before he has a heart attack.” The younger Winchester had a worry gene, and might be concerned that Dean had gone berserk or freed himself. 

Dean paused a moment, looking over toward his car. There was Sam who looked up to meet his brother's eyes. They were connected and he didn’t need to wave... his brother just knew he was alright. 

Moving on, he turned to Spike. "You know, other vampires are not bothered by the sun so much, how come we are?" 

“They’re weaker in the sun, but won’t go up in flames,” he agreed. “I don’t know. Some say it depends on your blood line. “You can put that in the mystery column. Better yet, ask Sam... it’ll keep him busy.” He nodded to the other building, “ready? Run!” 

Stretching his legs, Spike followed just slightly behind Dean, making sure he got into the shade fast. And then they were both slapping each others’ backs, and waving their hands to get rid of the smoke. “You alright?” 

Dean nodded, "Jesus," He smacked Spike's back one last time before going into the open showers. "Guess you don't get privacy here." He dropped his bag and started to undress. 

“Not about to complain ‘bout that,” Spike drawled, his mind laser-focusing to thoughts of Dean. Naked. Hot water. Soapsuds. That was all the toys he needed to keep them busy for a good long while. 

"I guess I should ask Sam about the research. It would give him something to do." Besides trying to save him so much. And they would both need to learn to live with this... Dean's new condition. 

Nodding, Spike single-mindedly stripped. “Hurry up. Need to teach you again about flying of a different sort.” Looking down at his erect cock, he smirked and pushed a still clothed Dean under one of the showers. It felt so bloody good to act normal, even if it would only last at most until the next time Dean needed to feed. “C’mere.” Tugging him close, Spike melded their mouths together in a searing kiss. A promise of many tomorrows. 

* * * 

They’d found the bunks used by the people who ran the broken down amusement park, and each slept in a separate narrow bed. It was the first time any of them had eight hours sleep in a while, and it felt good. 

In the shade of the night, Spike went out to the car and helped himself to some of the blood in the cooler. He needed it twice a day now, since he’d been feeding Dean. He would do it forever, if it weren’t for his fear about what would happen when he wasn’t around. 

Inside the kitchen of one of the food stands, Sam was making a meal for them. Spike wondered whether Dean would eat. Vampires could eat, but not too many did. Unlike most, he himself enjoyed many foods. Leaning against the car, he waited, wanting to give the brothers some time to themselves. One of them would call him when the food was ready. 

* 

Dean sat on one of the stools, as Sam cooked. It amazed him how good food still smelled and he wondered if he could actually eat it. As he watched Sam, he couldn’t help thinking his brother moved with such grace when he wanted to. All the years growing up, he’d been so clumsy because of his growth spurts. But now, Dean watched his hands move, he couldn’t help noticing how sure his movements were. 

Dean eyes raised his eyes up to Sam's face, noticing how those his long lashes closed over his hazel eyes. With that baby face of his, Sam was a good looking guy and those moles were too adorable. Dean remembered picking on him about it, just like Sam used to tease about his damned freckles. He could pretend Sam was still five, if he tried… but when his brother tipped his head and the light shined of his five o’clock shadow, he thought Sam needed a shave. He was also gonna need a hair cut too.

"You know, I was thinking," Sam was uncomfortably aware of Dean’s scrutiny. Green eyes met green eyes and held for a long moment.

"Yeah?" Dean asked.

Sam just stared at his brother for another moment then looked down. God, Dean was handsome even now with slightly paler skin. He swallowed, "Well, I was thinking, about the blood." 

Dean shifted in his seat motioning for Sam to go on.

“Well, I was thinking, you can't seem to hold the blood down. You keep throwing it up." He flipped the burger over, "What if you’re allergic to animal blood."

"Allergic?" Dean frowned, "I'm fine around animals."

"Dean, we never really had pets. And you never had to ingest their blood till now."

"Okay, we'll ask Spike." Dean paused and cleared his throat, "And speaking of which. Did you and ..." The moment Sam jerked his head up he saw the fear in those eyes. It always made his heart tighten and his breath catch 'cause he never wanted to see Sam afraid. But now he really didn't have a heart or breath. "Sammy, calm down," Dean locked eyes with his brother. "You called out my name."

"How did you ...."

"The blood, I … saw and heard," Dean answered. "Sam ..."

"I ... I didn't mean to," Sam answered quickly. "I'm sorry."

Dean just stared at his brother before pushing from where he was and heading for the door, "Don't burn the burgers, I'll go get Spike."

"Okay," Sam could only get out.

Dean walked out and waved to Spike, "You hungry?"

Nodding, Spike pushed off the Impala and strolled over to the food shack, standing near Dean but sticking his head inside. "All burgers, and not a bloody manwhich in sight," Spike gave an exaggerated sigh. "You promised you'd be making me a proper one of those some time, Sam." 

Smirking, he dragged Dean over to one of the outside tables and sat. There was some tension in the air, and he knew why... but he wanted it to break, wanted to be able to joke, and get laughed at and dammit, he would get them back to normal.

Sam looked out the door at his brother and Spike. What was going through his brother's head? What was he thinking of Sam now that he knew. He must be repulsed. It was one thing to like another guy but for your brother to ... Sam looked away. Dean must be repulsed. He had to be. It was the only thing that could explain his reaction.

_Oh god, he messed things up._

But it didn't matter, he was just gonna put it behind him. Save Dean and make things like they were. He’d ignored his feelings for this long, he could go on like that forever. He’d never act on them again. Besides, if Dean could walk around with a wall around his emotions, Sam could as well. 

He plated everything up and walked out, setting the plates down, "It's all I could get."

Dean looked at the plates then grabbed one, wondering, was he gonna be able to hold this down? At least the blood hunger wasn't growling and snarling at him, cutting into him like knives and needles. He slowly brought the burger to his mouth and took a bite. He was surprised that he really wanted this, maybe cause it was a 'normal' thing to do. He smiled at Sam with a mouth full of food and a lettuce leaf hanging out, "Who knew the little bro could cook."

Watching Dean speak with a full mouth, and better yet, watching him swallow, Spike smirked and clapped him on his back. "Just like your _Sire_." Did he expect one or both of them to be shocked? Maybe, but they needed to get used to it, the sooner, the better. "Not many of us who like to eat," he explained, reaching for the smaller burger. Tomorrow he'd try to mix some of his wheatabix into Dean's next feeding, that might help. He hoped.

"Odd thing. Wasn't much for sweets until after I was turned." Taking a bite, he nodded at the plate in front of Sam. "You don't eat enough."

Sam watched Dean eat and he looked over at Spike. "Only compared to Dean," He reached for a burger of his own and took a bite. "Besides, he always ate like our dad but Dad at least had veggies unlike him."

Dean nodded, "Dad could pack away the eats." He looked over at Spikeand bumped him with his leg. "Just glad I still like to. Don't know what I would do if I couldn't eat pie." He grinned.

 

Giving an exaggerated Sigh, Spike exchanged a look with Sam. “Means we’re not free of the midnight runs for pie. He’s worse than a pregnant woman, he is.” 

"What?" Dean gave Spike a look, "I am not," He kicked him under the table. "I just so happen to like my pie." 

“Oi...” Spike nudged the errant leg away. “Let’s see now... emotional ... check.... morning sickness... check... strange cravings in the middle of the night,” he almost leered, “check and double check.” 

"I'm having a baby elephant, want to see its trunk?" Dean countered back before taking another huge bite of his burger. 

Sam shook his head, "That is so wrong on so many levels." 

“But right on so many.” Licking his lips, Spike took another bite then left the rest of the burger on his plate. The creaking of metal parts moving in the night air had him turning and looking at the ferris wheel swaying in the wind. “I hear you like clowns.” His piercing blue gaze met Sam’s. 

Sam stopped mid bite and stared at Spike. 

Dean chuckled, "And midgets too." 

"That is so not funny. At least I'm not scared of flying. And rats." Sam defended. 

"Hey, didn't say I was scared of rats, just said I don't like rats. Rather have the scurrying sound be a ghost than a rat." Dean licked his fingers then wiped them with his hands, "You gonna finish that?" He asked Spike 

“Flying?” Spike smirked as he passed the remainder of his burger, “hurry up and have at it, I’m taking you flying right after, yeah? Sam, you’ll be alright with all the clown and midget spirits bound to be floating about here... right?” 

"That is so not funny," Sam informed Spike. "Don't joke about that." He looked about. "And I'm gonna warn you, he hums Metallica when he's scared. It calms him down." 

"I am so not flying," Dean spoke after taking a bite and pushing the food to one side, "No. No. No." 

“Come on Cinderella... time to dance.” Gripping Dean’s wrist, Spike stood up, bringing Dean with him. “Let’s go see what you can do.” 

Ignoring the half hearted protests and questions until they reached a rock climbing wall with an old bent sign that said the ride required two tickets, he pointed to it. “Watch.” 

Letting Dean go, Spike ran toward the wall, then jumped, his powerful vampire legs allowed him to keep running vertically until he was almost to the top, did a backward flip and landed next to dean. “Could always catch you if you want. Done it before,” he said, biting his lower lip and cocking his head at the memory. 

Dean looked at Spike. "What do you think this is? Matrix? Dude, I can't do that!" He looked at the wall then back, "Can't we just climb it?" When Spike crossed his arms and looked at him, Dean shook his head, "Shouldn't have eaten so much." He wiped his hands on his jeans and stared the wall. "Really?" 

He drew a breath out of habit and started running, planting his foot on the wall. Dean got nowhere near the distance Spike did before he was falling. 

“Feet first,” Spike shouted, though the hunter had naturally found his balance. When he landed and stumbled slightly, he shook his head. “Not too graceful, but you’ll get there. This time, believe it, yeah?” He glanced over his shoulder toward the food stand area and back, “and mind, your brother’s sure to make fun of you if you don’t get it right.” 

“I wasn’t known for my grace.” Dean looked over at Sam who sat there watching. "Sammy will make fun of me either way." 

“You’re still here luv,” Spike whispered, having not missed the fact that Dean spoke about himself in the past tense. “Do it, and I’ll show you just how alive you are...” dropping his gaze to Dean’s mouth, he touched his lover’s back. It was time for Dean to see the benefits of being a vampire... so far he’d only experienced the negatives. 

Dean realized what he had said and looked down, his lips twitching a bit before he looked at the wall. He concentrated then charged at it, planting his foot up high on the wall, he kept going, running nearly two thirds the distance of Spike then he pushed off and flipped, letting his body go as he’d trained to respond, landing on his feet. He looked at Spike, "WOW! I'm like ... Batman!" 

Spike embraced him and nodded. “Need to get you cape. And mask... God you’d look good in a mask,” he said crushing his mouth over Dean’s as the image of Dean in a mask fucked with his mind and sent lust pounding through his system. His hand roved over Dean’s arse, and he tugged him close.

"I look good in any….,” he started to say when he was cut off by the descent of Spike's mouth again. When they broke the kiss, Dean couldn't help smirking at the visible effect he had on Spike’s body. 

“Right...” Swallowing, Spike pulled away. “Stop distracting me... high jump is next.” 

"Hey, wasn't me," He held up his hands innocently. But that shit eating grin said otherwise. 

“I’m going to fuck you on the roller coaster tracks,” Spike promised. There were many rides between them and the coaster... two could play the game of torture. “Ferris wheel’s first. Climb with me...” 

Dean followed Spike and he shook his head, "You just like sex in the strangest places." 

“Mmm, I do.” His heated gaze said Dean could only benefit from it. “Right, Mr. Competative... let’s see who gets to the top first, yeah?” Spike jumped and caught the railing on one of the cars high above his head, swayed with the car, then securing himself with his leg half way into the car, the he pushed off and caught the next car up the wheel. 

Dean ran to jump and started hauling his own body up, scrambling to try and catch up and pass Spike. He nearly slipping at times but he managed to get his hand up to the top first, before Spike. "Hah, I beat you." He pulled himself all the way up and looked down. "Wow, that is a long way. No way we can jump." 

“Not much you can’t do now. And that’s pretty saucy,” he poked his finger into Dean’s chest, as they sat on the rail of the car at the top. “Beating your own sire. Take after your old man, yeah?” Spike meant himself, not John. “Look how far you can see from here. How much you can sense... feel... scent... it’s how I could always find you. And now you me. For better or worse.” 

Dean looked around and saw his brother below. He heard him. Smelled him, then turned to Spike. "I’d rather it be the _better_ part." 

“For better, then,” Spike said a bit hoarsely. “Now jump, before I go on and have you complaining about those chick flick moments you secretly enjoy.” 

Dean looked at him, "Too late, chick flick moment. He struggled with it for a moment till he felt Spike's hand at his back and then he jumped with him. He couldn't believe he was jumping from this height. 

Hearing Dean shout, Spike yelled with him just for the fun of it. Bloody remarkable how a few seconds could feel like hours. The amazement on Dean’s face when they landed safely had Spike more optimistic than he’d been for a long time. “So this is what it’s like to be a mother and teach your bleedin’ chicks how to fly. C’mere, chicky…” He just escaped Dean’s slug, and taunted him some more. 

He couldn’t help thinking that all those vampires who sired childs and then let them fend for themselves didn’t know what they were missing. A child could keep you young, and this one could keep him young for bloody forever. 

They scrambled from one broken ride to another, calling each others’ names and trying to out-do each other. Spike had quite the show off for his lover and once Dean understood the full scope of his powers, it was real competition. 

Dean felt like a little kid, running around and trying to out-do Spike. Showing off came natural to him, since it was the only way he’d gotten attention when he was kid. It was hard not to feel that way, even now. 

Their shouts and cries filled the air until they finally found themselves on the roller coaster’s rails, standing on them and facing each other. “Time to learn a bit of acrobatics.” Spike unceremoniously unzipped his pants and stared into Dean’s greens. 

At the sound of the zipper going down, Dean’s eyes locked to Spike’s. The blond’s scent danced around him. Made him crave and want. He’d never been like this before, not with any one… never had to have them in a ‘no matter what’ way. And he thought he knew why now… Spike put him first. That was something that rarely happened. 

Closing the gap between them, Dean kissed Spike hard. "So what kind of acrobatics you gonna teach me huh?" 

“Kind you’ll remember for a long time... fuck...” he tried to keep a tight rein on his control, and licked his burning lips. “Get down, between the tracks... on you back, legs hanging over the sides,” he said thickly, as he unbuckled Dean’s belt. “Hands between the tracks at all time, above your head.” He’d give his very free hunter what he liked best, the feeling of being trapped and fucked within an inch of his life. 

 

Dean batted hands away, "Let me get that, before you break another one." He was burning. His cock was so hard, a ridge showed right through his heavy jeans. He got his belt loose and pants off before he carefully lowered down, not draping his legs over yet as he stretched to hook his arms where needed, his hands grasping cool metal. "You know, I remember everything we do." Which was a double edged sword. 

“Memorable, is it?” Spike’s cock surged as he looked down at Dean in that tight space. His heated gaze slowly traveled down from the sliver of skin above Dean’s waistband, down to his hard and waiting cock and powerful thighs... “Open your legs. No putting them ‘round my waist, yeah?”

 

Dean didn't refrain from smirking. The way Spike's eyes traveled over him, wanting him... made heat roar through Dean's body. His cock pulsed with desire. His slightly exposed stomach quivered with anticipated as Spike lowered down and knelt. 

He toed his boots off to the side, pulled his legs up to his chest, shifted, then curled them around Spike's hips, drawing the vampire closer. He stared at his lover, waiting for him. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Spike shook his head at Dean’s defiance, and reached behind his back to unlock Dean’s legs, and re-arrange them... spreading Dean so each of his legs hanged over the side of the track. It was his turn to smirk at the vulnerable position he’d put Dean in. Just watching him like this had Spike wanting to come. 

On all fours, he crawled back a bit, and lowered his head. Using his mouth and tongue, and teeth, he tasted and teased Dean... kissed and tortured him, moving over his abs, his thighs, his inner thighs... blowing on his straining cock, touching so lightly he knew Dean was hurting, pressing the flat of his tongue against his tip but letting Dean do the work of raising his hips if he wanted any pressure at all. 

Dean tried to watch but he couldn't. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, giving a growl. He licked his lips as Spike moved over him, his body shivered with each teasing caress. Goosebumps formed over his skin everywhere Spike licked. 

He turned his head to the side, looking out over the park before he lifted his head to see Spike's tongue pressing against his crown. Wanting... needing more, Dean lifted his hips, pushing up against Spike’s wet tongue. 

The scent of their arousal was thick in the air, driving Spike crazy. He knew it had to be affecting Dean as well... he could see it from the way the muscles on his hunter’s thighs bunched up every time he tried to fuck Spike’s mouth and just missed, or slipped past his lips. He was getting impatient too, from the sparks shooting from those greens. 

“Remember the first time I fucked you?” he asked, his voice husky with the memory. “You didn’t know what you wanted, but you wanted it so bad you were going to get it.” His fingers bit into Dean’s hips. “So bad, you let me take you blood.” 

Dean closed his eyes, the memories playing behind his lids. He remembered pushing Spike against the wall, sucking him off. He remembered how he tasted and how Spike's body pressing from behind him felt. How excited, scared, and eager he’d been. 

He shivered at the memories, "And yet you still tease me. Guess we both like dangerous games." He rocked his hips up, running his cock along those lips. 

“Dangerous... that a threat?” Spike leveled a piercing look at his lover and then took him, all of him in his mouth. Sucking hard, he gave Dean all the pressure he could want, alternatively squeezing the base of his cock with one hand, and moving his mouth up and down. When groans turned to grunts, he pulled off. “Right... seem to remember I promised you acrobatics.” 

"I thought .... fuck ..." Dean hissed out between groans of imitated heavy breaths. "I thought this was the acrobatics?" He felt his legs trembled, needing, wanting, lifting to try and urge Spike to do more. 

Spike crawled up Dean’s body with cat-like grace, holding the outer track railings and then lowering himself down. With his cock pressed firmly against Dean’s, he started to fuck, long powerful strokes bringing them together again and again. “No thinking allowed when I fuck you, yeah?” He watched Dean’s hands clutch the railing every time they moved, watched him struggle... read his hunter’s mind. “No... don’t bring your legs round me,” he ordered, “not until I say so.” 

The lack of control was frustrating Dean, just like he wanted. Spike started to slowly tongue fuck his mouth, whispering all the ways he wanted to fuck Dean, the hundred ways and places he wanted to make him his... against the car, in a fire pit, the bell tower of a church... The more descriptive he got, the more Dean thrashed. 

Dean hissed and growled, his fingers flexed around iron, needing... wanting to grab at Spike, to cup his ass and force him down harder. But Dean held himself in check and working his mouth against Spike’s as he was tongue fucked. His cock ached between each drag of Spike’s body over him, each press of his cock against his stomach. 

 

Eventually, Dean’s eyes burned with fever, and Spike knew he was no longer listening. He couldn’t have that. “Want to be inside me?” He tried to smirk, but it was hard when his body was burning up and he was struggling to keep his control. “Do I have your attention, now?” 

Dean's blazing eyes locked to Spike's. He growled as his fangs lengthened, affected like the rest of his body. Spike definitely had his attention ... and his desire. ‘Yes,” he grit out, emphasizing his answer with a nod. 

The evil smile Spike flashed sent shivers of anticipation down Dean’s spine. Not knowing what to expect was half the fun as he watched Spike turn completely around and lower himself over Dean’s cock. 

Dean let out a string of swears as his flesh sank into heat. He didn't hear the park machinery click on but what he did feel was vibration which greatly added to the whole experience. "Oh, fuck." 

The blinding flash of pain reminded Spike that months ago, he would never allow anyone to bugger him. But this was Dean, and everything changed with the hunter. Everything changed with his boy. 

“Think someone’s jealous,” he said, barely able to think, let alone track where Sam had gotten himself to. The lights on the rides started to flash, the music pumped through old speakers at the tops of poles. But all that mattered was that they were fucking and feeling, and couldn’t finish full sentences. 

It went on and on. “Legs ‘round me,” Spike finally demanded, pulling Dean’s legs around his waist, and leaning back as Dean’s heel rubbed over his shaft. “That’s it... that’s it,” he shouted, bouncing up and down to give Dean all the friction he wanted, and getting off slowly with increasingly violent movements... driving relentlessly toward release. 

Dean felt the coaster rattle some more. But he was thinking it was coming from them. Spike was riding his cock hard, just as he liked it and he tried to use his feet to help Spike. He moved one heel down to Spike's balls, the other over to his cock so with each rise and fall, he was stimulating Spike. 

“Oh, fuck... like that," Dean bucked up hard, his hips moving faster till he heard something rattling up toward them and the vibration got stronger. "What the?" 

Spike managed to force his eyes open and saw an empty double car climbing up toward them. “Sodding hell, I’m going to kill your brother. Keep fucking,” he shouted, moving faster, harder... needing release more than fearing impact. “Need. To. Come.” 

The rattling grew louder, and all he could think to do was suddenly throw himself forward and put his hands out... taking the full impact of the car, and keeping it off them with the heels of his hand. “Dean... don’t stop... fuck me...” he pleaded, his voice breaking slightly. 

Dean came up onto his knees and leaned forward. He saw the car, but his hips didn't stop moving. At this new angle, he was able to hammer into Spike harder, angling his hips just right so he could hit Spike’s gland and make him cry out. 

As Spike held the car back, Dean kept going and going, burning... aching to release. He felt his cock surge and swell in the tight confines of Spike’s ass, felt his impending release. "Spike, close." 

Even hearing a second car start to move up the tracks didn’t stop Spike from single mindedly grinding himself back into Dean’s hips. Time stopped. The sound of the car moving up the railing stopped. Spike’s back stiffened. He threw his head back as far as he could and let the explosion rip through him, with Dean’s name on his lips, his taste in his mouth, his body still pounding into him. 

“Good, so good....” He waited until Dean shuddered one last time inside him, before getting up and crouching to gain leverage as the second car hit the first one. “Sodding hell...” Holding it in place, he pulled his pants up with one hand, and asked “want a ride down?” The sight of Dean, with his lips swollen, deep track marks temporarily marring his skin, and a thoroughly fucked look... never mind that he’d been doing the fucking... made Spike wish this ride would never be over. 

Dean's chest rose and fell in the manner it was used to. That was a helluva fuck... it felt good, hell more than good. He stood, pulled his pants on and secured them before moving over to Spike and kissing him since he was a bit tied up with holding the carts. 

His tongue fucked Spike's mouth and he pressed him hard against the car he was holding, bending him over its edge before pulling back. "Nah, I rather walk down. I want to see where else we can fuck." He got his boots on and grinned. 

 

“Dean...” Spike’s voice was strained as he tried not to think of going one more round. They’d have to leave soon, they couldn’t afford to waste too much of the night fucking around. “I think Sam was sending us a message. Just for that, he should be the one who packs up the car.” 

Jerking his chin toward the emergency ladders that were nearby, Spike jumped toward them at the same time as Dean. The rollercoaster cars rolled past them, shaking the railings as they descended. Spike and Dean climbed down, each on one side of the ladder, facing the other. 

Before they reached the bottom, Dean grabbed Spike and kissed him again, between the rungs. "Leave Sammy to me. And yes, he will pack the car and do the laundry as well." He smiled and jumped the rest of the way to the ground. 

When they reached Sam, he was sitting in front of the food stand with the laptop in front of him and sipping on his beer. 

He looked up at the pair, "You done filling the park with your ..." he motioned at them. "I think you two spoiled amusement parks for me forever." 

“Really? I’ve got a new affinity for them now,” Spike said, hooking his thumb into his waistband and strolling over. “Almost killed us up there. Again,” he amended, because they’d both lost their lives once in the turning process. “Would have thought you’d be more careful... considerate. Didn’t have to watch the show.” It was clear Spike thought Sam had watched, not that he would have done it differently if he’d been in Sam’s place. 

Sam blinked at him, "Whoa, you think I did that? No way." He pushed up. 

Dean glanced back to Spike. "You mean you ..." Dean stopped at he heard a noise coming at them. Without thought, his hand instantly reached out and curled around the hilt of a knife flying through the air toward them. 

The unmistakeable sound of a knife slicing through the air had Spike simultaneously shoving Sam to the side, sending him to the ground as he turned and found Dean had caught the knife. “Bloody fucking hell... we’re not alone. You alright,” he asked, putting his hand out toward Sam as he listened for sounds. “Don’t hear anything... Not a thing.” 

Sam hit twisted as he looked up to see Dean holding the knife. "How did you? Never mind." He grabbed Spike's hand, pulling himself up. "Maybe our guest is the one who turned the machines on you guys." 

Dean looked around. "Well, whatever threw this, it's still here." 

“Let’s find _it_.” There wasn’t a heart beat to be heard, other than Sam’s... so it had to be an it. “I’d have thought poltergeist, but this wasn’t meant to be harmless,” he said nodding toward the knife, his eyes growing steely at the thought something had tried to kill Sam. 

“Okay, let's go look around." Dean flipped the knife in his hand. 

"I think we should split up. I'll go with Spike and check the machinery switch see if I can ..." Sam started. 

"Spike is a big boy, he can take of himself, you come with me." Dean motioned for Sam to follow. 

Spike saw the pained look that crossed Sam’s face, but he had no answers. Dean hadn’t given him any. He had an inkling what Dean felt, and the confusion, but people... even vampires... were complicated. They didn’t always give themselves what they wanted. 

“Try not to die, both of you,” he said giving Sam an encouraging nod. 

Sam looked back at Spike, followed his brother then ran back to Spike, "Here take the EMF. Take readings of the area, see if something turned it on." He returned to his stone faced brother and followed. "What was that all about?" 

"What was what?" Dean asked. 

"Spike is a big boy?" Sam looked at him. 

"He is. Look, he knows what to look for. He’s worked with us doing this long enough." Dean answered simply, hiding what was deep inside.


	7. Chapter 7

The boys had taught him to use the EMF machine, and even though he liked making fun of how it looked all taped together the way it was, he knew the thing worked. He found nothing visible to the naked eye in the main control room of the amusement park, but the detector was going crazy. It made Spike wonder whether that first time he and Dean had been going at it and the machinery came alive, had it really been because they'd bumped into some sort of start lever? Once maybe, but for it to happen a second time, when they were on the roller coaster tracks and nowhere near any levers… nah, there was no coincidences, only mysteries to be unraveled.

"Voyeuristic, is what you are," Spike groused out loud, moving around, trying to follow the signature trail left by the supernatural being. "Nothing against watching, but interrupting... for that, you've got to pay, yeah?" And throwing a knife at Sam, that went without saying.

He pushed walked to the next building and pushed the doors open, moving the small device around. The trail lead to the creaky old fun house and seemed to linger. Spike was alert and ready to duck, when the scent of death assaulted his nostrils. Not recent death, and it was masked by something else... but he knew it was death just the same. As he stepped into the next room of the ride, he had no idea what to expect.  
"Sodding hell..." The room had been arranged with bodies in various states of decomposition... pairs… lovers on top of each other, hands where breasts should have been, faces between legs, arms hugging. When he looked up, he found car air fresheners dangling from the ceiling. Had they been taken from these peoples' cars? This empty park was just the sort of place couples might pull into for a bit of off-road loving, as Dean once called it.

*

Dean pointed to the 'office trailer' and after picking the lock, stepped inside. The lightswitch got them nothing, so their flash lights came out. Sam checked out the desk while his brother peered at some newspaper clippings stapled to the wall.

"Wow." 

"Wow what?" Sam looked up.

"Seems this place was popular with the police." He pointed at a couple of the clipping.

Sam joined him and read over Dean's shoulder. He reached up and pulled one of them off the wall. "That's enough to create more than one pissed off spirit."

Dean nodded, "We should find Spike." He turned to head out.

* 

Spike stepped out and jumped over the stair railing to the ground next to the bungalow style funhouse and couldn't be happier to get out of there. At just that moment, Dean and Sam came out of another building. "Whatever it is... it's got a grudge against lovers." 

His gaze flicked to Sam for a moment. He and Dean had been the ones having sex, not Sam. Why had the thing gone after Sam? Did it break the mold, or maybe none of the dead were really lovers, just arranged to make them appear to be.

Dean stopped and quirked an eyebrow at Spike then looked at Sam. "So why throw the knife at Sam?"

"Just wondering 'bout that myself."

"Oh, we found this in the office." Dean held out the clippings. "It seems, two lovers were killed here, in the fun house. The ex thought it was 'funny' for them to be caught in there having sex and well ...."

"Doesn't explain why the knife came at me unless it thought one of you would save me and it would hit one of you two?"

"For the smart one, sometime you..." Spike held Sam's gaze, shook his head, then took the clippings from Dean. "So the woman who runs the popcorn stand breaks up with the park owner. He catches her and her new fiancé and kills them. Then he's shot and killed by the police. Bad publicity and dead owner... this place shuts down..."

Spike looked at Dean. "Is it playing out the same history over and over?"

Dean looked at Sam and back at Spike, shrugging. "Could be. Could be a vengeful spirit. Maybe he doesn't know he is dead. We need to find where he was killed. What happened to his body."

"What if it is theirs?" Sam asked meaning the lovers. "Looking for revenge. Thinking I was the one who was gonna stop you like the park owner did when he killed the lovers?"

"You mean that seeing us you were jealous and would have come after us? That would never happen," Spike gave him a smug look, "unlike the owner, you love both of us, yeah?" Letting that truth hang between all of them, he shook his head. Funny how the brothers ignored his subtext. Denial ran just as strong in Sam as it did in Dean.

"Doesn't fit with the pattern, the rest of the people killed are in pairs. I vote it's the owner," Spike eventually said.

Dean nodded, "I agree. So let's go see if we can find out where the body is."

Sam held out his hand, "Spike, give me your cell phone, I can use the signal for my laptop. I'll look up and see where the body is."

"You keep using all my juice," Spike complained, passing the phone and watching as Sam retrieved some wiring to hook it up. From a distance, he could hear some rattling, and it wasn't the rides, he'd shut those off. "It's angry. Dean?"

Dean went over and grabbed his bag, pulling out the guns loading them with rock salt. He handed one over to Spike. "Sam you work at finding that body, Spike, you and me go see if we can shut him up for a while."

Spike nodded. "I know how to draw it... keep it away from," he jerked his chin toward Sam. "I think it comes 'round every time anyone's going at it. Remember how the machinery went on the first time? When you were feeding." Clearly there had been a lot more going on than feeding.

Dean nodded, "Okay, let's get away from puppy here and see if we can drive it away." Dean started walking, "Let's go find him." He smiled at Spike, "And dude, have some fun."

Spike knocked him across the chest with the back of his hand. "I was having fun, till the bloody ghost interrupted." He tried to look annoyed but it was impossible in the face of Dean's enthusiasm. "You just like shooting things... and I like shooting other things."

Dean gave a huge grin, "Oh I know. We like things going bang in different ways." He moved between the rides, walking along and listening for sounds, while Spike stared at the EMF device. "Maybe we should head to the fun house?" He started heading that way. "I know you will have lots of fun grabbing my ass there."

"It's my sport of choice," he agreed, letting his gaze roam over Dean's jeans, but refraining from making a crass comment. "It's there. Waiting for us in the fun house. Funny these things can't tell the difference between live and dead victims." 

As Dean picked up the pace and started running, so did Spike. They raced up the small set of stairs and pushed the door open, and the park came alive again. "It likes us, playing our song, yeah?"   
"We put on a good show," Dean answered, moving around the corner. He looked around then motioned for Spike to go ahead of him to check the next area. Dean kept looking around when he thought he saw something. He whistled to Spike and pointed to his left.

Gripping the sawed off rifle, Spike nodded and moved into a room filled with mirrors. Since he had no reflection, he wasn't distracted by it. From one corner of his eye, he saw a light pass across one mirror, then another, and overhead... but each time he got read to shoot, he found there was nothing to aim at.

"Liked fucking you on the coaster tracks, but I think we should use the office. There's a desk there, yeah? I have a thing for bending you over desks," he said loudly, sensing immediately that that the room grew colder.

Dean wasn't used to not seeing his breath suspended in cold air. Nor the lack of his reflection. He was slightly distracted by it, but forced himself to concentrate. He started to turn slowly, and when he came to one hundred eighty degrees, he suddenly raised raised his gun, "Duck!" He shouted at Spike and fired.

As he hit the deck, Spike looked up and saw the flickering image of a tall, pot bellied man with an axe in his hand. It whooshed away before impact. "He killed them with a bleeding axe? You'd think that might have been important to print in the article," he groused, rolling and springing up.

"Come on mate, you jealous? Don't blame you, yeah? What with my..." he looked over at Dean, perplexed about what to call him. "... better half being as sexy as he is. Look at that mouth, meant for kissing... and that sweet hot arse... It's all mine, mind… you're never getting a piece of him."

Dean's game face was on. He shot again, this time the spirit dissipated with a scream of pain. Dean rushed over, pulling Spike back to him. "Dude, he's gonna come back. He seemed pretty strong to manifest like that, more solid. We need to get him out of here. He's too comfortable here. Gotta draw him outside." 

"What's it going to do, kill us? Dude, have some fun," Spike mimicked, grabbing Dean's jacket and heading out the door. "Fun as in get fucked until you can't walk," he shouted at the top of his lungs. "As in no one can do it for you like me..."

He'd just kicked the front door of the office trailer open and was about to add another suggestion, when the blade of a large axe swung toward him. "Arrrgh," he shouted, trying to push Dean behind him as he moved out of its way.

Too bleeding late. The blade was buried deep into his shoulder and throat. Spike sank down to his knees and felt the blood spurting out of the side of his neck. "Dean... kill... it."

Dean swore, "Goddamnit," He raised his gun and fired several times, dissipating the ghost. He snarled then turned, pulling the ax from Spike's neck and he pulling his jacket off to press over the deep wound. Spike had pushed it too far and now he paid for it.

Worse, it was blood. Blood that had Dean's mouth watering. And it was staining his hands.

 

Leaned up against the door frame, Spike coughed the blood out of his mouth and grit his teeth against the pain from the pressure Dean was putting on the jacket. The ground was wet and sticky with his blood, and he felt his temperature drop dangerously low as his essence continued to slip out.

 

He managed to focus on Dean, and recognized the blood lust flickering in his eyes. "No. You fed." His attempt at sounding commanding failed. "Go. Go get blood for me," he tried to push Dean away. "Hurry."

 

Dean licked his lips, trying to fight the urge. Even though he fed, the blood that Spike was losing was a great temptation. It was bright and heavy with iron. Making his mouth water. But he wasn't so far gone that he couldn't keep his head about him.

"No, there isn't time, you're losing it too quickly." He answered. "Not to mention the bastard can come back at any moment. He's strong. That shot only pissed him off." 

He looked around one more time before grabbing Spike, "You have to take some of mine, now."   
Dean pushed Spike's head, forcing the blond's mouth to his neck, "Hurry up, we don't have long." He turned the Vampire so he could see behind him, in case he needed to fire at the spirit again.

Hunger ate at Spike, but he knew it wasn't only his own need that was plaguing him, but Dean's. It could have gone either way, really. If Dean's demon had won out... he could be finishing the job that ghost had started.

The temptation was great, but all it took was the memory of Dean gagging on animal blood to remind Spike why this was a bad idea. He couldn't go through another bout of feeding him and watching him suffer, and he wouldn't be able to feed him for a while from himself.

"Leave the rifle and get me the animal blood," he said, his mouth skimming the side of Dean's throat. His teeth ached... he craved what he needed, and doubly so since it was Dean who was offering. "Sodding hell, Dean... just go," he tried to cuff him about the ear.

"NO!, Damnit. I'm not leaving you," Dean shoved Spike against the wall, his own inhuman strength holding the weakened vampire up. "We don't have time." Dean reached up and with great pain, dragged his nail over his skin, cutting a path over the marks previously left by Spike. "Now take it," Before I lose it and take yours, Dean silently pleaded in his head as he felt his fangs trying to extend. The urge was growing. Dean even felt himself tremble and hoped Spike would rack that up to his anger. "DO IT!" He ordered.

Spike just barely held in a shout of pain from the rough handling. The arguments died on his lips though when he saw the force with which Dean spoke, and the hard edge in his glance. Trusting Dean to keep watch for the ghost, he closed the three inch gap between them, leaned against him and latched his mouth over the small cut.

Dean was sweet and spicy at once. Spike groaned as he struggled to fight against his instincts and took things slow. He could control the desperate need to bite... to swallow endless mouthfuls for replacement blood, he would take just enough. His fingers curled around Dean's arms, clenching each time he drew more blood, each time their bodies brushed.

This wasn't the time to think of fucking like blasted bunnies. He knew better and tried to turn his mind elsewhere. What flowed into his mind were memories of the past. China. China burning during the revolution. His lust... for blood... for sex... for power. The desire to slay the Slayer. The way he'd taken Angelus' blood... not like this, but in a frenzy of need... demanding his grandsire's blood... taking...

Dean had to spin their bodies around again so he could keep an eye out for the bastard ghost. He had one arm up, resting against Spike's, just under his arm to hide the shot gun. It had one shot left so if he fired it had to be good. Though Spike was making it all way too difficult to even care.

The press of Spike's arousal against his thigh was sending his mind to all sorts of places it had no business going in a situation like this. And then images slapped Dean like a wet fish across the face. Images of the past flashed before his eyes. But not his, Spike's past. The blood lust. The sex. The killing and worse… more sex.

Dean's jaw clenched. "Stop," he voiced just as a blur of smoke was forming behind Spike. It was forming a shape and that fucking bastard of a ghost was back. The disturbing images and the ghost both now irritated Dean to the point he raised his knee up and kicked Spike at the same moment he fired, hitting the ghost.

Both Spike and the ghost's screams mixed and Dean looked at them, "I said stop."

Spike fell back against the wall, "what the bloody hell was that for?" He wiped his mouth, still weak. He'd hardly taken much blood, but it could have been confusing for Dean... seeing him take from another… from his memories of Angel, and feeling like it was from him.

Dean grabbed him under his arm, "Oh quit being a panty whiner and let's go." He dragged Spike down the steps and tried to make his way back to Sam. "At least we can tell Sam which bastard it is. We have to find and shake n' bake his body. And get you some blood."

"Don't lose your day job, nurse Rached," he griped. Half staggering, he kept up with Dean and fished the cell phone out of his pocket. When he flipped it open, his fingers coated its face with blood. Wiping it against his jeans, he called Sam. 

"Not a good time, you say? Sorry 'bout that mate, but... it's the owner. Saw him. Dean... Dean's alright, getting a bit big for his britches, but he's fine. Hurry up, yeah?" He slipped the pone back into his pocket. "He's already at the graveyard, digging. Would be faster if you helped," he pointed out. "It's half a mile south of here, off the highway, he said."

They'd reached the little food shack, and Spike lowered himself onto a bench and accepted the bag of blood Dean brought him from inside. The look of disgust on the hunter's face didn't escape him, or the fact Dean would need to feed sooner rather than later now. "You should go. I'll be along." Tearing the corner of the back with his teeth, he held it up high over his mouth and started sucking the liquid down.

Dean stood for a little bit to long, watching as red flowed down into Spike's mouth and his throat moved as he swallowed. Green eyes followed it, focusing on the stain of blood on skin and he licked his lips. The animal blood might make his stomach turn but the sight of it still activated the primitive demon's nature in him and the need to take.

He started to sway toward Spike, but then pulled back and nodded, "You gonna be okay here?" Loading up the shotgun with more rock salt, he shoved it at Spike. "He gets weaker every time you shoot him. Join us as soon as you can." Again, Dean hesitated a moment then took off, going to find his brother and aid him what was still his job… hunting ghosts and putting them to rest.

Spike rested one hand on the shot gun as he greedily finished feeding. He tossed the red filmed bag to the side and wiped his mouth. Fucking hell, he still hurt ... that would teach him to be distracted when they were hunting. He pulled his tattered shirt off, and wiped himself down, knowing that the last remnants of blood would be absorbed by his skin in time.

The craving he'd seen in Dean's eyes appeared to be under control... for now, but he still worried. He pushed up, but found he wasn't ready yet, and would only be a liability to the brothers, so he sat back down.

Pulling out the cell phone, Spike dialed Sam. "Come on... pick it up," he growled, when it rang twice.

Sam was dripping with sweat and dirt. His hair was matted to his head and his arms, back, nearly every part of his body ached. He had reached the coffin and was in the process of prying it open when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He tried to ignore it but when the crowbar slipped, nearly cutting him, Sam cursed and pulled it out of his pocket. "WHAT!?" he demanded, not expecting Spike to be on the other line really, more like Dean, bothering him.

"Interrupting a love fest or something, am I?" Spike drawled, then sobered. "Dean's on his way, alone. He's... just be careful, he had to give me his blood and he may not be stable, yeah?"

"You mean any more unstable than he normally is?" Sam was still a bit peeved, but he tried to sooth. "I'll keep an eye on him, but are you okay? Do you need more blood?"

"Fine. Just, watch yourself, mate. I know it's hard," he snapped the phone shut. Warning one brother about the other was not something he'd ever dreamed he'd have to do. Then again... they still didn't know the full story ... the demon's plans for Sam, so this might not be an anomaly. 

Holding his side, he cursed and went inside to put something on. Dean's rifle was firmly clenched in his hand. He wasn't about to make the same mistake.

* * *

Dean silently cursed as he cleaned off and put the shovels away. They were gonna have to stock up on more salt and gas. Not to mention clean the car. Sam drove though enough mud that it caked along the side of his beauty. "Sorry, baby. I'll get you clean, promise." He spoke to his beloved car.

He glanced back to the bungalow they'd been holing up in. Sam was inside with Spike supposedly packing their stuff up, and all he could see was shadows through the window. He didn't know what was going on in there or what was being said. But that feeling in his stomach was tight and uncomfortable. 

Jealousy.

He wiped his hands on a rag then tossed it in the trunk, wondering what the two were really talking about. Looking over again, he saw Sam standing there in the shadows of the tattered curtain and he could barely make out Spike. How far was the distance between them?

 

By the time Dean looked back at the car, a stream of light had solidified into a tall figure leaning against the Impala. "Just starting to figure it out, aren't you?" He tossed a silver ring engraved with Spike's name on it up, and caught it, then threw it again. "He won't stay. He never does. Has this little problem, it's called 'boredom.'"

Dean couldn't help but be a little shocked and then pissed off when he recognized the man. He stepped back a bit then glared, "Get the hell out of here," he snarled at the guy he'd seen when he'd shared his blood with Spike. His greens were trained on the ring, catching the glint off the words. "You don't know anything."

"Don't I?" Barely smiling, Angelus threw the ring at the hunter and watched him catch it. "What's important isn't what you're saying, it's what you know. And you know I'm there, inside his mind... his soul, don't you?" He shook head. "He's pretty, but he leaves a trail of broken hearts behind him. Already, he's choosing his next great love. He's whispering in his ear. Showing him things he cannot imagine... just like he did to you."

Dean looked at the ring, silver like his. He rolled it over between his fingers before looking up at Angelus under his brow, "Shows what you know. You might be in his head, don't think you're in his soul. Not anymore." But Angelus' words ate away at what was already creeping through him like a dark shadow. "See the thing is, you don't know my brother and I do."

"Oh... we all like to fool ourselves. What? Don't believe me?" Angelus spread his arms wide as if he were injured. "Check his cell phone. Why are they talking behind your back? Spike's priming him. But you can close your eyes, pretend it's not happening... until he drops your ass and ..." he shrugged. "Don't say I didn't warn you..." his gaze drifted to the window, where he could just see an arm gripping Spike's shoulder, though neither man's face was within view now. "So long, sucker..."

Dean turned his head to see what the ass was looking at and he saw the same thing. But when he turned back, Angelus was gone. Dean gritted his teeth so hard, his jaw ached. He headed toward the stairs, charging up them and pushing open the door.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked, having offered Spike his blood and he was holding his arm, letting Spike know he cared and was honest about the offer. When the door opened, Sam turned his head and saw Dean and he knew that look all too well. Dean was pissed.

"What the hell is going on?" Dean growled as he slammed the door.

Spike could feel the anger roiling off Dean. "S'alright. Don't need any more blood," he answered, patting Sam's back then turning to Dean. "Thought killing things made you feel better, not worse." He started walking toward him.

Dean lashed out. The thought of anyone sinking teeth into his brother made him crazy. He swung at Spike, just barely connecting as the vampire leaned back in a bit of shock. "Don't you dare touch him!" He managed to grab Spike and whip him around to slam him against the wall.

"DEAN!?" Sam started for him.

"Don't you take ANY blood from him. You got me?" Dean snarled.

The freshly sealing wounds at Spike's shoulder reopened. He could feel the blood seep out and start to spread over his shirt, even as his face was smashed against the wall. "Sodding hell, don't be a git," he snarled right back, turning and vamping to compensate for his weakness. 

He pushed Dean back with both hands. "He didn't offer anything you didn't," he let that hang between them, in case Dean's mind was elsewhere, "and you don't see me feeding. Now come to your senses," he snapped his fingers in front of Dean's face. "Now..."

Dean smacked his hand away, "Don't you..."

"DEAN!" Sam snapped and got Dean's attention. "I offered it. I thought he might need it. I was only trying to help, for Godsake," Sam continued.

"Well don't," Dean growled.

"You aren't my boss, you can't tell me what to do and you aren't dad," Sam yelled.

"No but I am your brother and it's my job to look after you, damnit," Dean glared.

"Don't be an arse," Spike shoved Dean and shifted back. "I haven't wanted to hurt him since... right, since the time I used to think he was part of what kept us apart." He caught the wounded look from Sam and shook his head, "and I didn't act on then either, yeah."

He knew there was something else going on here. "Anything else you got to say? Questions," he prodded, "now's the time, you've got both of us here." Dean had buried everything he'd learned about what happened between him and Sam, and Sam's admission, and it might be getting to him. Then again, the blond didn't want to force anything out of Dean before he was ready.

Dean closed his mouth tightly, his jaw muscles twitched before he gave a tight response, "No."

And Sam knew that look, that tone, Dean was done. He would lock all of it up and allow it to eat at him. Sam sighed and turned away going over and grabbing a beer.

Dean didn't move, just staying where he was and seeming to seethe.

"Dean." Spike had seen him angry before, had dealt with his anger before, but there was so much of it now. His gaze slid to Sam, then back to Dean. Leaning close to his ear, he whispered. "He hasn't done anything wrong, don't make him feel like he has. He loves you," Spike poked him in the chest. "Even when you make it hard. Same here. Should know that by now... get it through that thick head."

Dean turned his gaze to Spike, "Don't bite him, ever." He moved away. "We head out of here tonight."

"Okay," Sam answered handing a beer to Dean then grabbing another and offering it to Spike.

Spike shook his head 'no.' "My turn to load up the car." Giving his lover a long look, he grabbed some of their things and headed out. The next feeding was going to come too soon and it was going to be big bleeding pain in the arse... something he wasn't looking forward to. 

Dean looked after Spike as he walked out the door. The tension between him and Sam remained for a while till they took a couple of sips of beer. Then they went about their regular routine. Sam gathered up his laptop and packed it away in his messenger bag before setting it upon the bed.

Dean felt Sam's eyes on him but he didn't say anything except for mumbling about their next destination and possibly getting decent rooms. Sam made a point about needing to go get more blood.

Dean merely nodded and followed him out. In his hand was Spike's cell phone.

* * *

They drove through the rest of the night, the Impala eating up miles and miles of empty road as they came within a day's ride of their destination. They parked at a small motel nestled at the foot of the mountains, and got out. 

Spike couldn't shake the feeling that things had just gotten worse. All the evidence said other -wise. They'd had a bloody good time at the amusement park. Even after that blow up, Dean seemed to get back to normal. He'd blasted his music at any sign that either Sam or Spike was falling asleep, and then told them to suck it up since he was the driver. And right now, he was inside with the manager arranging for a room with a view. 

Looking over at Sam, they agreed to take out only a minimum of things. "This time tomorrow, we'll be at the Shaman," Spike said, in a voice that made it clear he couldn't wait. "He's going to have to take the blood, I can't give him mine... not for a while longer," he said.

"He's gonna fight it," Sam answered, looked up just as Dean was walking over. He was holding a key.

"Dudes, you will NOT believe the view we have." Dean was grinning from ear to ear.

"What, a nudie bar?" Sam asked.

Dean gave Sam a shocked and appalled look, "I wouldn't do such a thing. But nice thought," he smacked Sam's arm. "Nah, nice view of the mountains," he tossed Sam the key and they all headed inside. Dean motioned to the wall window. "This little more upclass for us or what?" He grinned.

"Upclass." Dean did have a way of coining phrases, Spike thought, looking out the window and seeing that for once, Dean wasn't exaggerating. It was some view, through the sun would be coming up behind them soon and they'd have to close the blinds or stay back from the sunlight. Room was big enough for that.

"I call this bed," Spike said, dropping down on it and crossing his ankles. "Best spot to watch the telly..." he snatched the remote, "I call the remote too, yeah? You controlled the music, my turn." He didn't even know how he was going to broach a feeding, not when Dean was acting himself... so bloody normal.

Dean looked at him as did Sam. They both crossed their arms, looked at each other then headed for him. Sam snatched the remote and Dean shoved Spike off the bed. Both dropped down on the bed, crossing their ankles and Sam turned on the TV.

Dean looked over the edge, "Comfy?"

"Bastards." Spike gave him a burning look and got up off the floor. Striding to the empty bed, he sat down. "Fine... that itch you get at about two in the afternoon? Have Sam take care of it, yeah." Smirking, he searched both their faces.

"You have fleas, Dean?" Sam asked.

Dean smacked him, "Shut up, I do not." He looked at Spike, "Besides, you love taking care of my itches." Dean smirked.

"Speaking of itches," Sam sat up a little more serious. You doing okay, Dean. I mean with ..." Sam wasn't sure how to bring up the blood issue.

Dean lied, "I'm good."

Looking over at him, Spike got up and went to the small cooler they'd brought inside. He took out a couple beers for everyone, then grabbed a bag of blood and headed for the bathroom, stopping at the door. "Share one with me. Just half, luv. Please." 

Dean opened the beer, handed it to his brother, then opened the other bottles. "I don't know," he looked at the bag and it was a big mistake. The demon in Dean wanted. Even as Dean took a drink of his beer, he stared hard at it and Sam saw the look.

Sam placed his hand at Dean's back, walking with him and guiding him toward the bathroom. "Just a little, Dean. We have to be sure and this is a good time."

"I don't know."

Standing with his legs apart, Spike touched the side of Dean's face. Relieved that they wouldn't have to force him. The knowledge that there would be no replay of yesterday's feeding had him almost smiling. "Take it slow. One swallow... then a break," he said, using a blade to poke a small hole in the corner of the bag and holding it over the sink for Dean to take.

The heavy irony scent of blood filled the air. Dean felt an immediate reaction. His fangs extended and in a quick step he was there. He didn't even hear Sam move under the door frame and stand there. He took the bag and tried to keep some control but his hand shook. Some of the blood spilled.

"Slow, Dean," Sam tried to remind.

Dean got some inside him, but couldn't stand the taste. He swallowed and pulled back, making a face. It wasn't what he wanted. And now it was showing in his eyes.

"All you have to do is hold it down now... look at me," Spike stepped up behind him and put an arm around his waist, laying his palm on Dean's stomach. He could feel Dean's stomach twisting, rebelling. "Dean, look at--"

But Dean was doubling over the sink and it was over before it started. "Alright..." Spike met Sam's eyes in the mirror, though only one of them was reflected back, then he helped Dean clean up. "I'll feed you later. Once you're re-souled, we'll start hitting hospitals to make sure there's enough blood that you can keep down. Until then... I'm dinner." 

There went his original plan that Dean would never taste human blood, but at least when he was souled, he would be able to keep the cravings down and stick to the donated sort. Spike patted Dean on the back, "go on." Then leaned forward and took the bag to his mouth, drinking as fast as he could, and taking more than he needed. 

Dean made the mistake of looking up in the mirror. He saw Sam. His eyes focused on his throat. The strong pulse. The blood singing in his veins called to him, sharpened his craving. Dean shoved, pushing Spike back and whirling on his brother, grabbing him.

"Dean ..." Before Sam could say any more he felt his head being pushed to one side.

"No!" Spike dropped the bag, and grabbed the back of Dean's jacket, pulling him roughly off Sam. But the hunter wasn't about to make it easy, so it turned into a scuffle. They landed on the ground, with Dean throwing punches and Spike finally gripping his wrists and slamming them down onto the ground above his head. 

There was sudden silence in the room as the three men processed what had just happened.

Dean lay on the ground, pinned and he realized what he had done. Sam was in the bathroom, staying clear but looking from the door, his face showing the strain of fear and worry. He looked at Spike, "I'm good. I'm good," he leaned up, "Just a little."

His mouth was so close to his throat. Spike felt his blood flow straight to his cock, felt every cell in his body scream for him to feed his child. "I would... you know I would, but ... what's in me, it the same as what you just had. Have to wait for my body to process it, yeah?" He lifted up on his elbows. "Just have to hang on for a few hours. I'll feed you then."

Dean closed his eyes, trying to focus. He nodded, licking his lips. "Just a few hours." He could last. Just had to keep it together. He looked back at Sam, now feeling worse. He leaned his head against Spike and trembled a bit. "Should ..."

"Yeah... we will," holding him close for another minute longer, Spike got up and pulled Dean up onto his feet. 

He could see the guilt eating at Dean as he glanced at his brother still hovering in the doorway. "Sam's not afraid of you," he reassured him. "He's afraid for you, big difference, yeah?" He nudged him to the bed. 

"Sam, get me a beer and the handcuffs... we're going a bit kinky tonight," leering as he sat down next to Dean, he made a push for normalcy. 

Dean couldn't bring himself to look at Sam. His hands still trembled and he tried to hide it by rubbing them over his jeans.

Sam felt like crying for his brother but he did as his brother would tell him to, suck it up. And Spike was there, pushing that as well. Sam passed them the beer and the cuffs he dug out of their duffel bag. "Here."

Still avoiding Sam's eyes, Dean set the beer on the night stand. The demon in him wanted to grab the cuffs and throw them out the window or clamp them tight around Spike's neck so he could feed. But Dean pushed that from his thoughts and offered his wrists. "I wouldn't call it kinky," he muttered.

"You will, when I'm through with you." He secured the metal bracelet around only one of Dean's wrists, looked at him and secured the other around his own wrist. "One handed sex," Spike hinted.

He knew Sam was torn up inside, wanted to reassure him. But Dean was on the edge, and they'd already learned that when he was, he didn't like Spike to give Sam any attention, and vice versa. "Put the telly on the music station... something loud, and Sam... do we have enough for you to get another room?" he asked, turning to look at him, pleading with his eyes for him to understand he wasn't trying to get rid of him... just doing what was necessary to hold the peace for 24 more hours.

Sam looked at the TV and was reaching for the remote, tossing it over to Spike. "I can go for a walk for a while. Cause we don't have enough money for another room."

"Don't bother," Dean's inner demon was keeping him from being interested in Spike's suggestion, which would have worked at any other time. He dropped back upon the bed, looking over to his brother.

"You sure? I mean I can," Sam motioned to the door.

"No, I'm not sure, I could attack you again," Dean started.

"But you won't," Sam corrected in looking at him.

"Yeah, well, I'm okay, Sam," Dean looked over to Spike.

No you're not, you're off. Spike looked at him for a long moment, but merely nodded. "Let's try for some sleep then. You look exhausted. Both of you."

Spike moved over and drew Dean into his embrace, holding him close, even with the damned cuffs in the way. Telling him without words that things would work out. He stroked the side of Dean's face, down along his throat and chest, trying to sooth him... to take away the edge. 

As Sam got undressed, Spike felt Dean's stare and didn't turn toward the younger brother. Something was ready to explode... something under the surface, and he would do his best not to set it off. "Tomorrow will come quickly if you sleep," he said softly, willing Dean to close his eyes... to relax.

Dean turned and watched his younger brother strip his clothes off, leaving his tee shirt and boxers on. His body was well defined. Muscles flexed with every movement. Dean felt a strong urge to go over to his brother. To take him. To take him fully in every way, especially his blood. The connection they would have would be even greater. God, what was happening to him?

He swallowed then turned his face to Spike and nodded, "I'll try."

It was all Spike could ask of him. Once Sam hit the lights, Spike nodded back, and drew Dean's head onto his chest. Deep down, he knew sleep would come hard for all of them.


	8. Chapter 8

Restless, Dean couldn't sleep. All he craved was one thing. Truthfully, three things, but he wasn't counting right now. He turned over, though it was a little difficult with being handcuffed to Spike. 

Dean could see the light reflecting off his brother's muscles. When they were kids, he used to spoon up behind his brother and hold him. Make him feel safe. Like nothing could get to him. He wanted to do that now, but if he did....

"Sammy?" He called out softly.

Sam blinked, thinking he heard his name. He shifted and close, but then he heard it again. He rolled over and looked over his shoulder, blinking and rubbing his eyes, "Dean?" Worry suddenly slammed into him and he was out of bed and moving toward his brother. 

Dean looked up at his brother, his eyes locking to the pulse point along Sam's neck. "Sam, can you let me loose?"

Sam gave his brother a sad look, "Dean, you know I can't do that." 

"I'm thirsty," Dean didn't elaborate on what he was thirsty for.

"I'll go get you some water, okay," Sam pushed up, glancing at Spike.

Dean watched his brother go then looked back at Spike. He had caught the little glance and he turned back. Sam was returning, holding the water.

"Here," he offered, glancing at Spike and his gaze lingered a bit too long.

Dean pushed it away, the water sloshing, "Why do you keep looking at Spike?"

Sam blinked at him, "What? I..."

"I saw you," Dean hissed. "You took Dad from me and now you want to take Spike." 

"Dean, no, it's not like that." Sam moved in closer, locking his eyes to him, "Dean, you are and will always be my main concern."

"And you expect me to believe you? You've lied to me before," Dean growled.

Sam could hear Dean's voice spiking with anger. He wanted to touch his brother, but hesitated, afraid it might set him off. Then he remembered that one time when Dean had been going off the deep end because Spike left. Dean had been dangerously close to imploding, and then that kiss... that single kiss between them had calmed him. 

"But I'm not now." Anxiety knotted his stomach as Sam cupped the side of Dean’s face and started to lean in, closing the distance between them. His breath warmed Dean's cooler lips before they touched. 

Sam’s tongue delved inside his brother’s mouth and brushed against Dean’s tongue in slow caresses, trying to coax a response. When he finally felt Dean’s lips start to work against his, Sam’s heart rate and breathing went through the roof. He kept kissing until Dean seemed calmer, then he started to pull away... knowing this was a guilty pleasure that he’d think about for a long time. 

He’d kept his eyes closed during the exchange, but Spike had been ready to stop Dean. He could feel his lover’s emotions were still in turmoil, could feel hunger and anger roiling off him the instant his brother refuse to release him. But when Sam kissed him, he’d definitely dampened some of the feelings Dean was struggling with.

Lifting his head, Spike looked at Sam. Little brother couldn’t look guiltier if he tried. And big brother was starting to get agitated again. Trying to deal with his own feelings, he put his hand possessively over Dean’s waist, and spoke low. “He’s hurting. Sam, kiss him again... take his mind of it...”

Sam jumped slightly at the sound of Spike's voice. He looked at him, then at his brother, clearly seeing his brother's jaw tighten again. 'Kiss him again, take his mind off it' was what Spike was asking him but inside, Sam was burning up. 

Dean felt the irritation building inside him. He shifted uncomfortably but then his mouth was suddenly covered by his brother’s. Dean whimpered and melted just as he would have with Spike's kisses.

“That’s it, that’s it.” Holding Dean, Spike moved back on the bed, dragging Dean along... which forced Sam to lean in as he kissed Dean. “Get in the bed, Sam. Go on.”

There was an air of indecision, and Spike knew it wasn’t coming only from Sam. This was new territory... to all of them. He wanted to be the only one who could calm Dean, but he’d known all along that Dean needed Sam too. He also wanted what was best for his lover, and right now... this was best... anything to kill the craving until he could feed again.

Sam had to break the kiss because unlike Spike or Dean, he HAD to breath. He moved with them and then hesitated. If he climbed on the bed, there was no going back. No taking anything back. But Dean was pulling at him and he wasn’t sure he could fight this.

Dean moved back against Spike and he was dragging Sam to him. He wasn't thinking of anything, just wanting... and taking.

"You sure?" Sam asked, but this time Dean took his mouth in a hungry, needy kiss that ended the question. 

Spike’s arm was yanked when Dean moved his cuffed hand to touch Sam’s face. “Sure, yeah,” he answered, not so much sure, but definitely getting horny as he watched the brothers’ mouths move desperately over each other. A glimpse of a tongue had him hard, and grinding against Dean’s ass. He kissed his neck, and shoulder... his eyes clinging to the brothers’ faces.

Dean desperately worked his mouth against Sam’s. He moved his hand down over his brother, caressing, feeling his strong defined muscles under the tee shirt he wore. He pulled back then turned his head, finding Spike's face close. He could feel the hardness of Spike's cock against his ass. Knowing how hard he was getting was triggering things inside Dean as well. 

Sam looked over at their bodies, writhing, wanting, needing and a whimper almost left him. God was this really happening? Was it going to happen? He closed his eyes and swallowed hard as Dean brushed his hip, but it wasn't only just Dean's hand, it was Spike’s too.

Seeing Sam get worked up was really something. Spike wondered if the shock of what was happening would wear off and Sam’s aggressive side would come out. He slipped his free hand down to cup Dean’s cock as he ground his hips into his ass. His eyes flicked to Sam’s when he felt the hard ridge of Sam’s cock brush against the back of his hand, each time he pushed against Dean.

Sam's heart was beating out of control. It hammered against his chest and he could hear it in his ears. His cock throbbed whenever Dean's hand brushed near. Sam watched Dean's face as he allowed him to explore. God he was beautiful. Sam suddenly surged in to kiss his brother, pressing his body hard against Dean's.

Dean groaned as Sam's hard body ground against him. He was sandwiched between the two men, one holding his cock while the other pressed and rubbed. Dean let out a sound and turned his head, his mouth searching for Spike’s. "Get naked," he mouthed, not sure who he was talking to but knowing he wanted both of them.

Covering his mouth, Spike slowly tongue fucked it... partly because he needed it bad, and partly because he needed to deal with the twinges of jealousy that he was struggling to control. Breaking the kiss, he leaned over to Sam... and slanted his mouth across his lips... middle ground... they could do this, he told himself. They could find it.

Sam leaned in to kiss Spike, his tongue stretching out to meet the vampire’s. Unlike these two, Sam had no problems sharing. 

Dean watched for just a moment before pushing Sam back. Before a word could be said, Dean was kissing his brother, possessively. He didn’t need words to tell them that Sam was his and no one else’s.

“Fuck...” Spike’s mouth met air and he was now treated to the sight of Dean sprawling half over Sam. It would have been hot, if Spike hadn’t gotten the message only too clearly. Something constricted deep inside him. He’d been willing to clamp down on the feelings that plagued him when someone other than himself was kissing Dean, if that person was Sam... and if they were to share. But he wouldn’t be excluded... not like this. 

He shoved his hand inside Dean’s shorts and grasped his cock, squeezing it... fucking his ass. _Mine_ every cell in his body started to scream, even as he heard sounds of pleasure breaking from Sam. 

Dean gasped at the firm grip his lover had on his cock. His body was rocked back and forth, causing him to rub against Sam. This in turn, had Spike's hand rubbing against Sam's hard cock, and it didn’t sit too well with Dean. 

Sam looked up at Spike and he knew what was up. Both were jealous. He reached down, "Share," he breathed as he placed his hand over Spike's and started rubbing and touching Dean.

“Shut up, Sam,” both vampires spoke in unison. There was a bit of a struggle between them. A few choice swears and grunts. Some hard kisses, and then a semi truce that both vampires could live with for the moment.

Spike was single-mindedly bringing Dean off, stroking his arousal with his sure movements, fucking his ass over his boxers... and Sam’s hand was nowhere near... he’d made sure of that.

Dean had managed to work Sam’s shorts off, and had his hand closed over Sam’s cock. Maybe it was instinct, or self-preservation, but Sam was no longer trying to touch either Spike or Dean. Instead, his hands were bunched at his sides. 

“Dean, give me your mouth,” Spike insisted.

Dean turned his head, offering his full lips to Spike. How incredible was it to be trapped between two hard bodies? Sam's cock was nice and full, leaking with eagerness. Dean's hand stroked his brother’s cock, alternately squeezing. He trembled at the sounds breaking from deep within Sam’s throat. It was perverse, how hot he was getting at the knowledge that Sam badly wanted to touch him but couldn't, and that the sounds Sam made were affecting Spike.

Sam finally moved his hands but he didn't touch, instead he reached over his head, gripping a pillow as his hips moved to fuck his brother's hand. "Oh, fuck," Sam breathed.

Breaking the hard kiss, Spike looked over at Sam. Hearing swear words leave his lips during sex made him want to hear more. And watching as he started to buck and clutch the pillow made Spike want to fuck Dean just as senseless. He started to thrust hard, watching Sam, he fucked and stroked Dean, knowing he’d hear Sam cry out Dean’s name... and that he’d go ballistic if the word ‘Sam’ left Dean’s lips.

Was it like a train wreck waiting to happen? Bloody fucking hell, yes, but in the grips of lust, all of them were powerless to stop it. “Fuck... Dean,” Spike’s back started to stiffen as heat rushed down his spine. 

Dean turned his head, biting Spike's neck and watching him release. Sam was too far gone to even pay attention. And to Dean, honestly, these two were fucking hot as all hell. Sam didn't normally swear but what was coming from him had Dean wanting to hear more because seeing him out of control like that was just... incredible. 

Sam bucked helplessly into Dean's hand and when he heard Spike swear, say Dean's name, he lifted his head to watch. What he saw, pushed him over as well. "Oh God, Dean," he jerked his hips and his release coated Dean's hand as his brother pumped him then smeared his hand up Sam's stomach. 

Dean struggled to hold on while he watched. Both were devastating when they released. And his name came off their lips which had him pleased and eager to hear it again. He nuzzled against Spike's neck but he was breathing in the heady scent of two releases. It was doing the right things to him because his own body tightened, his cock swelled and just another pump would have him joining them.

“That’s it luv,” Spike was still lightly grinding against Dean. He wished his other hand was free to squeeze Dean’s sac and push him over, but he found another way. Leaning over him, he closed his teeth sharply over his nipple, pumping him hard at the same time. His lover’s strangled cry almost undid him. When he lifted his head to watch Dean’s expression, he saw Sam was doing the same.

Dean threw his head back. His face showed slight pain but then it melted into pleasure as he released into Spike's hand. Dean's fingers dug into Sam's skin and he pumped against Spike before the last remnants of tension left him and he laid still, his cock pulsing. 

"God, Dean, you look so," Sam whispered, "And you too Spike."

It hadn’t escaped Spike’s notice that Dean hadn’t called his name out. He couldn’t mask the slight hostility in his eyes, so he rolled back on the bed, trying not to resent. It had felt bloody fucking good. Just a matter of getting used to it... that was all. That was all.

Dean was satisfied, for the moment. He then turned his head to look at Spike and he saw the tension in his face. He reached up with his hand turned the Vampire's head to him and kissed him as he dropped his hand down to his groin and gave him a squeeze. 

Sam searched for his shorts and started to pull them on, "Don't you dare," Dean informed him. Sam looked over then just dropped down, not about to argue.

Closing his eyes, Spike concentrated on the scent of his lover... not lovers... not now anyways. He forced some calm into his riotous thoughts, and knew a bit of rest would make everything clearer. Another hour or two, and he’d feed Dean. In the back of his mind, he knew he’d do more. He’d read him... he needed to see what Dean felt... needed to know that he wasn’t back to being the third wheel. Sodding idiotic thoughts...

 

* * * 

Dean was not sleeping well. The hunger in him was building and sound of Sam’s blood rushing through his veins was not helping. He shifted and tried to move his arm then realized his arm was still cuffed. He frowned then sat up, looking over at Spike. He could just bite into Spike and take what he needed, but he reached to shake him instead.

Angelus laughed and clapped. “They’re playing you so well, and you’re falling for it. It’s just ... tragic to watch.”

Dean’s hand dropped.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean looked up and saw Angelus. "What the hell? Fuck off. It's not true. You don't know crap," he growled.

 

“Don’t I?” Angelus walked closer. “That was some sweet kiss they shared, until you told them what’s what. How long do you think they’ll be able to fight it? These feelings? You opened up a can of worms, sonny boy, letting him in the bed.” 

 

Dean looked at Sam then back at Angel. "That's not true!" He so wanted to believe his own words but doubts were starting to play into his mind.

 

“Isn’t it? Here, let me explain something to you. A) they used you... they pretended they did this for you. I didn’t see either of them suffering, did you? B) If you’d been in the audience, you’d have seen the way they looked at each other... they were fucking each other and not you. And C) Spike is dreaming of him now... he’s forgotten to feed you. Just when has that happened before?” He gave a knowing laugh, "tell me you at least checked his cell phone." 

 

Angelus filed his fingernails over his coat. “He’s going to jump ship soon. And when he does, Sam will be his bitch. He’ll suck him dry... that’s why he doesn’t want you anywhere near Sam’s blood. He wants virgin blood.”

 

Revealing his fangs, Angelus moved close to Sam’s throat. “Can you hear his blood rushing? Heart pumping. So sweet... his blood is so sweet. And... if you were smart, you’d take a taste and read it … learn how he’s about to betray you.” Snapping his fingers, Angelus straightened. “But that’s just me. You might want to sit there like a sitting duck.”

Dean snarled the moment Angelus got near Sam. Possessive fury and the need to protect instantly washed over him. He was about to push Angelus away when he looked down at Sam's throat. He could see his brother’s pulse beating under his skin, hear the blood rushing through his veins.

 

"He's mine. He's always been mine. Since my father gave him to me at four, he's been mine." It didn’t matter that Angelus was no longer there, Dean’s attention was now focused on Sam only. He ran his tongue over his fangs as he drooled with need. He could just take a little … just enough to ease the fear that the bastard was right about Sam and Spike. 

 

 

He hesitated a moment then parted his lips and sank his fangs into the side of Sam's neck.

 

Sam jerked and his eyes shot open but the sensations that washed over him had him moaning softly.

 

Something stirred at the back of Spike’s mind. Something unsettling disturbed his heavy sleep. It was a scream. Dean? Sam? Who was calling him? And then it hit him, it was Dean’s hunger beating at him. Blinking away the cobwebs, he started to turn toward his lover, to give him what he needed when he saw Dean’s face was in Sam’s throat and rivulets of blood were dripping onto the pillow.

 

Fear. Anger. Jealousy. Rage… they all came in the color red. “No!” Spike shouted, dragging Dean off Sam, “No… no human blood, sod it all… no human—“

 

Dean hissed and the cuff dropped off his wrists as Dean shoved Spike clear across the room. "He's mine!"

 

“What the—“ Spike looked at the cuffs that had simply opened. “Get off him. Sam out of the bed, “ he shouted, coming back at them. “Dean… I’m not fucking around here.” He wrapped an arm around Dean’s throat, putting him in a headlock as he held him back. “Sam…” 

 

Sam blinked and tried to snap out of it. He turned his head to see Spike restraining his brother. His hand went to his throat and he realized what happened. Sam was up and out of the bed.

 

Dean grabbed Spike's arm and pulled it off, then shoved him into a wall, following with predatory speed to pin him against it. "You just wanted Sam for yourself, didn't you! Well Sam is mine. He's always been mine."

 

“Fuck off,” Spike pushed him. “You know better than that.” He’d reversed their positions and was staring into Dean’s enraged eyes. “You need to feed… fucking feed from me,” he moved his throat over Dean’s mouth, telling himself it was the bloodlust talking… not Dean.

 

Dean hissed and fought, then relaxed just as suddenly. Using one of the abilities he seemed to have absorbed from his brother, he decided to force Spike to give him the truth, "Tell me the truth."

 

Sam's eyes went wide because that was something that wouldn't work on him and he knew instantly what Dean was doing. "Dean!"

 

Spike instantly calmed. “About what? What do you want me to say luv?” He needed to feed Dean, but couldn’t get up the will to do so… to force him, and that was strange and disconcerting.

 

"Tell me who you really care for, me or Sam. Are you just using me to get to him," Dean pushed with his mind.

 

Sam moved over and pulled Spike back, "Dean, don't do that. Because we both love you. You, no one else. And we’d do anything for you."

 

Dean looked at Sam then at Spike. He was trembling. He pushed again with his mind, demanding an answer.

 

“I… I care for Sam, but—“ Suddenly Spike found himself flying through the air and hitting the opposite wall, about two thirds of the way above ground, held there by the same invisible force that Sam had exhibited. He turned his head to Sam to see what the fuck he was doing.

 

Dean's teeth were gritted tightly together. He felt Sam move closer, felt the weight of his gaze.

 

"You know those powers won’t work against me. Dean," he reached out to touch him.

 

Dean dodged Sam’s hand, but in the process saw what he’d done to his throat. He looked at Spike, torn apart on the inside by warring voices in his head, then looked back at Sam.

 

"Put Spike down, Dean. Please."

 

Spike felt the force pressing harder… choking him, and it was now clear to him that it was Dean… not Sam. Danger signals rang in his head. “Sam…” he tried to tell him to use his powers, but couldn’t get a word out as he struggled against the force.

 

"Dean!" Sam snapped, his voice loud and firm.

 

Dean jumped and Spike slipped part way down the wall. Dean stared at his brother.

 

"You know, from my blood, Dean, the truth," Sam stepped back, "Now let Spike help you. Let him feed you and things will be better."

 

A strange, cold wind swept the room, like a presence… a dark, malignant presence. Still plastered against the wall, Spike frowned. “Dean are you doing this?”

 

John Winchester put his hands on his elder son’s shoulders. “They’re going to put you in chains and leave you. You need to get out of here, fast. You need to find a place to hole up, then you hunt this vampire. He’s poison. Look what he’s done to you. Look who your brother is siding with… get out… regroup, and kill him. Do it, boy. It’s an order.”

 

Dean might have hated his father. Was angry at him for what he had done to them. Dragging them around. Treating them as weapons, tools, instead of sons. But his voice, his orders were still deeply ingrained into him. Still made him respond.

Suddenly, Dean shot out of the room, breaking through the glass of the balcony window and leaving them behind. He ran to escape them. Ran to escape the voices in his head and outside his head. He ran as fast as he could and didn't hear the voices calling after him.

Sam shouted after his brother, "DEAN!" He had tried to grab him, to stop him but he couldn't reach him. He nearly fell over and all he could see was Dean disappearing into the trees. He turned to Spike, "You okay?" He asked quickly, eager to go after his brother.

 

Spike literally fell off the wall, hard, swearing like crazy once he got his voice back. “Okay, yeah… can’t lose him,” he shouted, scrambling up and diving out the window. 

 

He landed on the soft wet ground, and started to run… to follow Dean’s scent, separating it out from the musty wet smell of tree bark, the grassy oily scent of the branches, and the clean scent of the misty rain. “Dean! Dean!” he shouted, weaving between the trees, moving hanging moss out of his way, and searching in the pitch black forest as he climbed up and down the mountainous inclines.

 

It went on for hours. He could hear Sam’s calls echoing his own, coming from different directions. It was useless. Dean was gone. He couldn’t even find his scent anymore. 

 

Swearing, Spike started to follow Sam’s desperate calls and reached him. Putting a heavy hand on his shoulder, he shook his head. “He’s covering his scent. “And he’s figured out how to block the blood tie between us. Don’t think he’ll be able to maintain it… when he slips… we’ll get him.”

 

Sam nodded, and they both headed back to the motel. With no time to waste, they hardly talked until they got back to the room and started packing.

 

Sam threw his things in his bag and then pulled the Colt and checked it. He threw the bag over his shoulder. "Dean's a hunter and has been hunted. Our bigger problem will be if he is hunting us." Sam headed for the door. "We need to find him but we need to make a stop at the blood bank here or the emergency room and get him some human blood before he actually takes it from someone."

 

He looked back to Spike, "Oh and I found this," he tossed the ring back to Spike. "What does it mean and how did it get in our room?" He hadn’t seen either Dean or Spike wear it.

 

Spike caught it and looked, a frown marring his forehead at the memories it brought back. “Angel… Angelus…” He looked up at Sam. “When I was feeding from Dean, he pulled memories of me with Angelus. My grandsire. This was his… but he’s… he’s dust now.” 

 

Sam just looked at Spike, "If he is dust how did it get here?" He wanted to believe Spike but his brother was missing and now this? Which could be the cause? Sam worried for his brother. “Forget it, let's go find my brother." He raced for the car, starting it. He had a feeling the places to look would be bars or strip clubs, if there were any nearby.

 

Spike tossed the rest of their gear in the back and got in. “Right… need to find him before the night is out.” They were in the backwoods, and there weren’t too many roads. They followed the main route to town and parked near an old fashioned phone booth. Spike quickly got the addresses for some clinics, and they hit two of them before they found blood for the taking.

 

As they put the vials of blood into the ice box, Spike felt the weight of the world pressing down on him. “Didn’t want him to get a taste for this. Human,” he said, gaze shifting to the wound on Sam’s throat. 

 

Sam looked at him, "I know but it's a little late. We should have given it to him earlier. He would have been easier to manage. It would have been easier to feed him stolen human than trying to force him to take what it looks like he’s allergic to. And we’d have had it on hand, so he wouldn’t have …"

 

 

Spike’s blues darkened. He poked his finger into Sam’s chest. “You’ve never known what it’s like to crave human blood after you’ve had it. Was trying to spare him that.” Balling his fists, he turned away.

 

"Let's just find him," Sam started walking, thinking it best to check the alleys first.

 

Unable to argue with that, Spike stood still trying to sense Dean’s presence. “He’s around… he’s masking…blood lust.” His voice rose, “you go in there, I’ll try the next one… call me, don’t try to deal with him alone, yeah? “

 

They split off, each desperate to find Dean. They kept in contact, told each other where they were searching, but it was a small town, not too many places to look… at least if he was in the area where the stores and bars were. The bars were closed or closing down, but on occasion people still milled around. Danger clung to the air.

 

Close to dawn, Spike found himself walking up the stairs of the small white church. Sam had caught up and was walking slowly, dragging his feet. The front door of the church was open a crack. Odd that…

 

Sam walked in behind Spike, looking around and digging in his pocket for a flash light. He motioned for Spike to go down one aisle and he would go down the other. Pointing his light against the wall, he stopped suddenly.

 

The scent of blood was too heavy in the air for Spike to make the mistake of walking down the other aisle, instead, he went with Sam, blanching slightly when he saw what Dean had left for him… seconds before Sam trained his light onto the scene.

 

Sam sucked in his breath. A beautiful Angel statue whose face reminded him of his mother’s stood with its arms wide open, blood dripping down its arms, and between the grooves of the flowing dress the artist had carved. He looked up higher, and saw the body of a priest attached to her back… his throat was ravaged.

 

In silence, he turned to see what Spike was looking at, and gulped. There was another statue. This one was of the Arch Angel Michael. A nun, with a torn throat was cradled in one of the angel’s arms, much like a child. 

 

“Angels… Angel… child… he’s telling me what he thinks of me as his father.” Spike’s throat constricted. He didn’t need a bloody message to tell him what a failure he was, fuck… “It’s the demon in him. Has to be… it’s making him think I should be like Angelus, or it’s mixing him up with your father… or I don’t bleeding know,” he shouted, hitting the statue and knocking it over. It shattered into three large pieces, and buried the nun under it.

 

Clapping his hand behind Sam’s back, he tugged. “We’ve got to go. Going to be light soon. I have to hole up, and then we have to come up with a plan… before he has enough time to think of one himself.”

 

Sam shook his head and sighed, "He’s sending both of us a message." He pointed up, "She looks like our mom. He once told me mom used to tuck him in and say angels were watching over us. Then she was killed by the demon." He turned and started walking out. "We need to set a trap for him. Problem is, I don't know what to use as bait."

 

“I do.” Spike’s eyes burned.

 

* * *

 

Two nights, and a half dozen bodies later, a very determined Spike entered a club. Not the one in town, not the one everyone knew about. But an underground club, the sort most people around these parts knew nothing about. 

 

It was a small place, packed with men laughing, drinking… hooking up in ways that many mountain folk might think was sacrilegious. It could be, when vampires were involved… but there weren’t any here, none that Spike could sense. 

 

But he did have a lingering feeling that Dean was dogging them. What was the fun in leaving them presents in the form of artistically arranged human remains, if he couldn’t see the impact on them? He was there, somewhere… had to be.

 

A half hour later, Spike walked out, laughing loudly as the attractive blond, green eyed twenty something he’d gotten all worked up tried to tear at his clothes. Under the moonlight, the outline of guy’s cock desperately pressing against his zipper was clearly visible. “Need a good fucking, do you? I’m just the one to give it to you.”

 

The man whimpered, pushing Spike up against the wall outside the club and immediately closing the distance between their bodies. “You keep promising, oh God,” he desperately moved against Spike, trying to regain the pressure.

 

Spike stood with his back to the wall, legs spread wide, straddling the guy and bring his mouth down hard over his. The slow tongue fuck he gave him had the guy writhing and fucking against him, struggling to get his hands between them… to unbutton his pants, but Spike kept up the torture. The scent of need… both of theirs … filled the air. 

 

“Please… p.. please, need,” the guy took a few gulps of air, and started to shove Spike’s shirt up.

 

“Don’t move.”

 

“What?” Confused, the guy was surprised when Spike pinned his hands behind his back. And then they were moving against each other again, and waves of heat were burning him up. “Need to touch… damn…” he croaked.

 

Smirking, Spike merely brought their mouths together again.

 

Dean’s eyes glowed with anger and jealousy. If Spike wanted to get his attention, he succeeded. 

 

He’d been watching Spike in the bar. Keeping well hidden and his scent masked. He watched as Spike went from guy to guy, teasing and turning down till he found the one that would remind him of what he’d lost.

 

Now he stood behind the Spike’s new arm candy. "Don't think I ever begged like that. Maybe I should have then we wouldn't be where we are now." He grabbed at the blond, jerking him away and tossing him away from Spike like a dead rag doll. His eyes glared and a snarl played on his lips.

 

The sickening sound of bone’s breaking and the guy’s shout only had Spike’s attention for a few seconds. “Oh you begged. You know you did.” Spike’s heated gaze traveled up and down Dean’s body. “You’re blood drunk. Else you’d remember.”

 

Dean lashed out and back slapped him then surged in and kissed him hard, pinning him against the wall. His mouth ravished and raped, taking before he pulled back. "Don't think I begged so pathetically."

 

“No. You don’t do pathetic, never did.” Spike licked his lips, tried to remain relaxed… tried to keep him distracted. “Sexy as hell, fucking hot, and… “ His gaze slid to the guy just getting up off the ground. “Not available. A vampire’s got to go where he’s got to go, yeah?” He pushed Dean, making as if to follow his human lover.

 

A snarl broke out of Dean as he jerked Spike around and slammed him chest first into the wall. He had Spike's arm pinned between them, twisted to his back, and was pressing against his body. "That's right, you aren't available, daddy." He growled against his ear. "This is what you wanted anyway, right?"

 

He could feel Dean’s arousal pressing into his ass, could feel both anger and desire coming in waves from him. Fighting the urge to turn and put his child in his place, Spike nodded slowly. “It’s what I always want. Who’re you talking to now? Me? John? Who?” he demanded, unable to repress the shiver that ran through him when Dean thrust against him.

 

Dean reached up and bent Spike's head to one side. He ran his tongue along his neck, "You of course." He growled. "You know your daddy was right. You’re nothing but a whore, going from him to me and now trying to get to my brother."

“Fuck…” Spike strained to kiss him, but Dean wasn’t having that. “Angelus. Angelus is dead, Dean. Long gone.” He could’t help fucking back against Dean, needing him. He’d missed him. “It’s in your mind this… whatever it is. Or someone’s screwing with you. Fucking hell, Dean… I want you. Only you.” There was silence. It scared Spike. “Do you want to give this up? Then why didn’t you bleeding leave me alone to have that man?”

 

Dean rubbed his nose against Spike's ear, his eyes closed, taking in Spike's scent. "It's from your mind. You did this to me." He whispered. "Your fault I turned out like this. Should have known this would happen the moment I fed from you. But like everything about you, you think you have it all under control." He stressed the last part as he wrapped one hand around to Spike's crotch and rubbed the heel of his palm against Spike's erection.

 

Spike groaned, pushed his arms against the hard cold wall to get a bit more space for Dean to work him. “That what you think?” Another sound broke from him. “Seem to be having all sorts of control problems.” Arguing would be useless, he knew that much now. Even if he could make his brain cells work. “Dean… what do you want?” he managed, his voice thick and strained with lust and need.

 

"That is a good question. Blood. Your blood. When was the last time you fed? Did you like my gifts?" Dean squeezed at Spike's cock. "I could answer you on your knees in front of me, putting that mouth to better use than what you have been using it for."

 

“Can’t talk with my mouth full, yeaaah, ahhh…” he groaned and thrust into Dean’s fist. “Couldn’t find someone to get you off quite like this?” he asked. That was the reason Dean had kept returning to the club… even when he hated the idea of fucking a vampire. 

 

"Just like you couldn't find anyone to get you off like I did to you." He forced Spike to turn around then pushed him down. "Sort of like you were made for me, I for you. What do you call it? Soul mates, mate."

 

 

“Never claimed there was anyone else for me, mate.” On his knees, Spike held Dean’s lust-filled gaze for a long moment, as he clamped his hands around the backs of his thighs and tugged him. The rough material of Dean’s jean’s slammed against his mouth. Spike kissed the hard outline of his cock, opening his mouth and clamping it around his shaft… squeezing and releasing. 

 

Dean looked down at Spike, hand in his white hair. He hissed as Spike worked him through his jeans, "Yeah, but it's clear you tried. Still trying even with my little brother." He gripped his hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to look up at him, "Still are, aren't you."

 

Needing to keep Dean off balance, Spike cupped his balls and stroked his thumb up and down Dean’s raging erection. “Do you smell Sam on me?” he challenged, wincing when Dean tugged his head back further. “I want what’s best for you. That means your brother in our lives… in our bed, because you need him. And he needs you.”

 

"No one ever gave a damn about me, why should I believe you? They get one look at Sam and those puppy dog eyes and I'm just a memory. You wanted him in our bed not because of me, it's because you want him."

 

Spike leaned in and laid a wet open mouthed kiss on Dean’s stomach, under his shirt. When he pulled back, he was undoing Dean’s belt. “Right. I’ve got a plan then. You, me… we take off, tonight. Now. Just us, and Sam can find his own way, yeah? I’ll have everything I want. Will you?” he asked, more softly.

 

Dean paused and then closed his eyes, shivering from the heat building in his body and the cool air on his skin. He looked down, "Right, like you could stand it." He pushed his hips toward Spike's mouth. "You would be breaking up the family and I don't think you could stand that."

 

“Try me.” Spike had him unzipped and tugged his jeans and briefs down in one go. “All mine. Never been a problem with me,” he said, grasping Dean’s cock and tonguing its tip, fucking just the small area. It was true. He loved Sam, he loved him like family. He wanted nothing more than all three of them to stay together… to become the family he always craved. But he didn’t need Sam. He could take off with Dean, and keep an eye on the younger brother’s safety from afar. 

 

Dean hissed out his pleasure and his perfect white teeth lined up against each other. He felt a shiver go through him at the feel of Spike's tongue and it slammed into, the realization if how much he missed Spike in just a few days.

 

A bit of guilt rushed through him in the fog of the demon’s control. "Then why," he whispered. "If you care so much for me, why go after my brother?"

 

“When did I go after your brother, Dean?” He took his entire crown into his mouth in hard, merciless sucking motion, then pulled off. “When I held him when he was hurting because you lay there dead? When I ‘played you’ for him when he most needed it?” Moving his head, this time he clamped his mouth around Dean’s shaft and moved up and down in a sideways motion, from base to crown.

 

Lifting his head, his eyes laser focused on Dean’s pupils, now so dilated, his eyes looked black. “Or when I let him kiss you, when I asked him into our bed because you were hurting, and there was nothing I could do about it. But he could. Do mean then? When?” he demanded, brushing his cheek against Dean’s throbbing cock. 

 

Dean slapped his hands against the building in front of him for support and to keep from letting his knees buckle. He heard the words through the fog and he frowned.

 

Spike’s words didn’t match what was happening, unfolding in his mind… it didn’t match what Angelus said. Suddenly the image of himself biting his brother flashed before him. How could he have done that?

 

Across the street, Sam had gotten into position hoping Dean was too busy to catch his scent. All he could see was Dean’s back, and from the way he was cocking his hips, he was getting some action. Sam raised the rifle, cocking it and putting his finger on the trigger. He looked through the scope, finding his brother but then stopped, blinking as he saw someone else there. A little girl with what looked to be a vision of someone else. A guy.

 

He lowered the rifle, rubbed his eyes then looked again. They were still there. "What the hell," Sam questioned himself. It was tempting to shoot the girl.

 

Dean gave a moan, closing his eyes for just a moment as whispers came to his ears.

 

Angelus tapped Dean on the forehead. “Think. What’s he really trying to do here? He’s talking you into circles until you agree with him. He and Sam are going to catch you, kill you, then fuck their way into eternity. Wake up Dean, your time is over. Look across the street…”

 

Just when Spike thought he’d talked Dean down, he felt a change. Dean’s eyes opened, and the lust was replaced with rage… all over again. “Dean…” His lover’s hand moved so fast, Spike hardly had time to react. He found the hunter’s hand closed around his throat, choking him as Dean started to look over his shoulder. Fuck… he knew! 

 

“Shoot. Shoot him now,” Spike shouted, prying Dean’s hand off, but not standing in order to give Sam a clear shot. “Now!” Dean’s back hand struck him heavily across the face, sending his head cracking against the wall.

 

Sam raised the gun and fired, hitting his brother in the shoulder. As Dean stumbled and dropped like a rag doll, he saw Spike catch him. He rushed over. "There was someone else here. A little girl and a tall guy," Sam dropped to his knees to check on his brother. "Let's get him out of here."

 

"What?" Wiping the blood from his nose, Spike nodded. "Right, let's get him back. He'll be alright." The tranquilizer had knocked Dean out cold, just as they'd planned. The trick had been to make sure he wasn't aware of Sam's approach.

 

Hauling Dean up over his shoulder, he followed Sam to the car and dropped Dean down on the passenger side. Within moments, they were driving back to the motel it all started at. 

 

 

(A/N: phrase “blood drunk” used at the request of a reader, Ruthie)


	10. Chapter 10

Dean was chained to the bed. Neither Spike nor Sam liked it, but they knew it had to be done. He'd killed so many innocents in so few days, they couldn't risk it. And now Dean knew how powerful Sam's blood could make him. It didn't take a genius to know that he'd use that against them... against the world, whenever his demon got to him.

 

The light was starting to stream in through the windows. They had to stay for the day, but soon as darkness fell, they'd be up the mountain to that Shaman, getting Dean's soul.

 

Spike stopped pacing and looked at Sam. "Right. Now what was it you said about someone else being there?"

 

Sam looked at his brother, still out. He turned his head briefly to Spike, "Just that, there was someone else. Two of them but I think one was only an image. There was a little girl. Black hair. About eight. She wore a black dress and coat. Black buckle shoes and white socks, like a schoolgirl. I don't think she was a ghost." He looked back to Dean. "It might be why Dean's demon is gaining so much control over him."

 

"Right, you have your research cut out for you, yeah?" Spike nodded toward the lap top. "Someone's fiddling with him, someone other than his inner demon. It's got to be that... the ring... the girl. Tell me, did the bloke have 'stupid hair?' Big Neanderthal forehead, taller than necessary?"

 

"Well not as tall as me but yeah to everyone else." He looked back at his brother who gave a groan. "He is gonna be pissed when he wakes."

 

Dean opened his eyes, trying to move his arms but found them heavy. Seeing the heavy chains, he looked at the two men in the room and snarled. "What the fuckin' hell?"

 

Spike turned and looked directly at Dean, seeking the connection between them. “Still high on the blood,” he pronounced, trying to ignore the physical needs they’d both stoked only a short time ago. “He must have gorged,” he looked over at Sam. Which meant there were dead bodies they hadn’t found yet.

 

 

Sam walked over to Dean, "Dean this is for your own good. You've hurt enough people." He wasn't gonna say kill cause all his life, Dean never killed an innocent life, till now. He just couldn’t make himself say it.

 

 

Dean looked at his brother, "Or is it a way to force me to watch you two have sex."

 

 

"What?" Sam looked back at Spike. "NO." He answered his brother.

 

 

Spike stalked to the bed, leaned over Dean and brought his face so close they almost touched. “That’s enough of that. Did you forget everything I told you about how it is?” he demanded. “Are you going to listen to the demon inside you, or whoever else is fucking with you, because they are... Angel is dead and gone, has been for some time. And if it’s him you’re talking to, it’s not _him_ , yeah?”

 

 

Rebellion sparked in the green eyes he was staring into. Some things never changed. “We get your soul into you and then...” Spike paused, knowing what he said could change everything, plunge them into an even darker future when they’d only been searching for that elusive happy ending. “Then if you need for one of us to walk away, then we will,” he said, his gaze seeking Sam’s for a brief moment.

 

 

"It will only be me," Dean answered. "Because we all know you like to lie. And so does Sam." He turned to his brother. "You both have lied to me."

 

 

Sam sighed because he couldn't argue, he did lie. A lot to Dean. "Dean we will get your soul and things will be better. And no one will be leaving," he gave Spike a firm look.

 

 

Spike wanted to believe Sam so bad it hurt. Things were spinning more out of control than he’d imagined. “You want to be alone. Is that why you came back tonight? That why you didn’t run as far as you could from us? Why you left us all those _presents_ to find, so we could track you? That why you can’t stand the thought of my mouth on someone else, like this?” he brought his open mouth down over Dean’s in a brutal kiss of domination, and pulled away only when he got a response. “Or Sam’s... you want to drive him away, make him need what you needed when you first came to the club but give him no outlet?”

 

 

He looked over at Sam and knew it was true. The younger brother had taken longer to reach the point of needing to dance with the dark, but he was there now. And maybe it had been accelerated by the goings on between Dean and himself, but the cause was irrelevant. “I haven’t told him yet. I didn’t want to say anything outside your presence, yeah? But I do love him. I love both of you. Different, but I’d do anything for either of you.” He pulled his gaze away from Sam’s. “Includes walking away from the family that I’ve dreamt of for so fucking long.”

 

 

Sam blinked at Spike, shocked and amazed. He always knew that Spike loved Dean. But him? And that kiss he had laid on Dean...seeing his brother respond like that to Spike, Sam wanted to get the same response from his brother.

 

 

Dean glared, "Huh, good little speech. But don't believe the lies."

 

 

“Then it’s not the truth you’re wanting.” Spike moved away before he was temped to hit something. “Sam, that devil’s trap you told me about. Can we rig one up here, around him? Just in case... and would it work if the demon is not materialized?”

 

 

Sam noded, "Yeah, I can draw one around the bed." He got up then looked at Spike, "but if you step in the circle, you are not gonna be able to get out either, until I break the circle." 

 

“No. I don’t need to be in the circle,” he answered, his voice thick with emotion. “Just want this over with.” His gaze locked with Dean’s. “However it’s meant to end.”

 

Dean jerked at the chains, "Sammy, don't you do it. Please." But his brother went on to getting a can of spray paint. "Spike, you can't let him do this." Dean tried to plead. "If you really love me then don't let him, please." But when Spike didn't respond Dean shouted, "SPIKE!"

 

 

Walking over, Spike sat on the bed and brushed Dean’s hair back. “Doing the best I can, Dean. Stop making it harder. It’s only eight hours.”

 

 

Dean looked at him, scared. "Please," He spoke softly. He heard the shaking of the can. "I love you, Spike. I'm scared. This is not gonna work."

 

 

“What’s not going to work?” He really shouldn’t be listening, his lover was too far gone. And yet Spike couldn’t help himself. 

 

 

"You aren't gonna find my soul. It's their's. They aren't gonna just let it go." He looked away for a moment then back to him. "Just let me go and I promise you and I can just run off together. You and me. We'll make love from sun set to sun rise."

 

 

Spike gave a bitter laugh. “Who’s lying now, mate?” This isn’t you speaking. The hunter I know, he doesn’t fucking give up, yeah? He fights for what he wants... for _who_ he wants. He doesn’t let them take from him.” 

 

 

The blood was pounding at his temples. He wanted his boy back. He wanted his Dean, he wanted him whole. In a fluid move, he straddled Dean and kissed him. His lips were hard, demanding, implacable. His hands moved knowingly over his lover, touching, squeezing, pressing... desperate to find what he’d lost. “I want the Dean who remembers this... the Dean who believes in me, in what I say... not in all the lies. And until he’s back, I don’t have much to say,” he added, the strain showing on his face, in his eyes... in his tone as he started to get off Dean.

 

 

Dean returned the kiss, his mouth opening and his body squirmed under the touch of his lover. His body knew and responded. Wanted and needed him. But the Demon in him responded, "Well, then you shouldn't have bitten me. You wanted this. Wanted me to be like you so we could be together forever. Well, how you liking what you created?"

 

 

Putting his weight back onto Dean, Spike leaned over. “Liked you fine until whatever this thing is started to screw with your head. We’re going to put a stop to it,” he jutted his chin toward Sam, who was on his hands and knees, spraying lines on the ground around them. “Had fun at the amusement park? Fucked hard, played hard, even worked hard... and it worked, was working for us. Now you’re listening to someone else and sod it all... look where we are... look what it’s done to us.”

 

 

Sam stood up, "It's also because both of you get so damn fucking jealous of each other. One can't stand to see the other with anyone else. Which is selfish if you ask me."

 

 

"Sam. Sammy," he stopped as he watched Sam put the last bit of the circle down, locking him inside. He looked at Spike.

 

 

“What’s this?” Spike scrambled off Dean and got off the bed, immediately backing against a painful force field and cursing Sam out. “What do you think you’re doing? This thing is to trap it... “ and to Dean under control too, but there was no need to state the obvious. “What are you playing it? Sam?” His voice took on an authoritarian tone.

 

 

Sam looked at him, towering over him. "To teach you both a lesson and keep you both under control and from doing something stupid." Sam crossed his arms.

 

 

“What?” Spike stood with his feet apart and arms crossed, like a reflection of Sam. “Let me the bloody hell out, or so help me... when you do, you’ll regret this.” His softly spoken words were edged with the steel lined threat.

 

 

Dean snickered, unable to keep it in. "You look like a shorter version of Sam."

 

 

Sam leaned to the side to look around Spike at Dean who just gave an innocent shrug. That was the first time the real Dean came out in a long time. "No. Not till you both listen. You both have been fighting each other every time the other gives me the least bit of attention. Dean, I can understand but you," he looked at Spike and shook his head. "I love Dean and I care for you. This is the closest to a family we have ever had since our father died. And this has been the happiest Dean has ever been but I'm not gonna let either of you tear it apart because of your own jealousy."

 

 

“Me?” Spike’s wounded double take at Sam was genuine. “You’re going to blame me too? Go on then,” he really ought to be resigned to this. “Or let me do it for you. I’m a git for having thought I could pull it off. I’m terrible at this thing called siring. I can’t replace his bloody father, even if he wasn’t a good one to start off with, and I certainly can’t yours. Go on, give it your best hiding behind the bloody trap.” His eyes burned with anger, but it was directed at himself.

 

 

Sam shook his head, "But Dean didn’t need a father. He has that in Bobby. He needed you to love him. To love him and only him and when he was comfortable, then he would share. You wanted us to all be together too soon. I'm not saying I'm not at fault, but admit it...you get jealous if Dean pays me attention, just as he does when you do." Sam didn't back down, not even from the anger Spike was radiating.

 

 

Spike stood stony faced for a few minutes, trying to gain control over his emotions. “Think you’ve got me figured out, do you?” His chin went up and he locked his laser blue gaze with the younger Winchester. “Well you don’t. I can handle him touching you. I encouraged him to, yeah? But not _to my exclusion_ ,” he uncrossed his arms. “Not while I’m here.”

 

 

Sam walked into the circle and grabbed Spike. He pulled him in close then leaned in and kissed him. As if he could taste the truth on his lips. He pulled back after a while, his tongue running over his own lips as he felt the pressure linger there from the kiss.

 

 

Dean jerked at his chains. He felt his teeth clench and his jealousy build. Spike was his. Wasn't he? Or was it all a crock as Angelus had been telling him. Dean's inners tightenened.

 

Sam pushed Spike down on the bed, making him sit by Dean. He sat down as well. He tried to order his thoughts, to work out what he wanted to do.

Touching his burning lips, Spike looked suspiciously at Sam. “What was that for? Your way of getting permission to have your way with him,” he nodded toward Dean. He knew every trick in the book, and if the younger Winchester thought he could use his own words against him... he’d said he could handle it if he weren’t excluded, so Sam thought a kiss gave him entre. “Go on, you’ve got it. Just let me out of here. I’ll have a smoke outside.” There was a narrow strip of shade on the walkway, he’d let them go at it if they wanted. “Just don’t get bitten, or its over.” Pushing up off the bed, he appeared calm, despite the storm of emotions brewing inside him.”

 

Sam reached up, pulling Spike down and pushing him on top of Dean, across his chest. "I don't need your permission or his," Sam spoke. "You two need to learn to share, and to know that I care for you both. And I make my own decisions." He rolled over on top of Spike and kissed him again.

 

The back of Spike’s head was ground into Dean’s chest as Sam brought his mouth down over Spike’s and gave him a long, hard kiss. It wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t a question. It was as if the younger Winchester had made his mind up about something, and would have his way. Fuck… Spike found himself responding, even though he was aware of Dean… of his feelings of…

 

Dean bucked under them but Sam reached for Dean's groin and gave his cock a squeeze. In return, he got a cross between a groan and a growl from Dean.

 

Sam kept kissing Spike before he pulled back. Breathing hard, he leaned further up, sprawling over Spike to close his lips over his brother’s. God he tasted good.

 

Spike felt Dean shudder under him. His eyes tracked Sam’s mouth on Dean’s, the way they moved together, the glimpses of tongue that he got. If the weight of Sam’s body weren’t on him, he might have shoved him away to take over. Control… that’s what he needed.

 

He ran one hand up Sam’s leg, and squeezed his ass, hissing when Sam jerked against him. He moved his other hand up between Dean’s legs and ground the heel of his hand against his cock, groaning as he felt Dean’s cock thicken and harden under his touch.

 

Dean’s chest rumbled as he groaned. As Sam pulled back, Dean lifted his head up and the parting kiss was wet and loud. Dean was all kinds of hard from watching his brother kiss his lover, and now Spike’s hand was stroking him so good. The demon inside him tried to scream that this was all a set up but all Dean knew was it was hot. Damn hot.

 

On his knees, Sam undid his pants. He pulled his cock out grabbed Spike's hand away from his brother’s cock and brought it to his own. It was clear what he wanted.

 

Looking up at Sam, whose knees were now straddling his chest, Spike swallowed hard at the sight of his cock resting between his thumb and fingers. Looking higher up at his face, he found the combination of determination and lust in Sam’s gaze dizzying. His skin tightened and heat flushed through his system.

 

“Dean?” he asked almost as an afterthought, as he closed his fist around Sam’s cock and squeezed, then ran his thumb around his crown.

 

"No," Sam hunched over him, "You don't need to ask his permission because we all love each other. Get that through your heads."

 

Dean clenched his teeth but Sam had grabbed him by the hair and was forcing him to turn his head to watch.

 

Any moment now, Spike thought he would toss Sam’s ass off the bed and… Right, that would be as soon as the hunter stopped finding new ways to make him burn with need. Just seeing Dean forced to watch, seeing his eyes grow hot as Spike’s hand moved expertly over Sam’s cock and probably knowing exactly how Sam was feeling under his touch sent fiery heat surging to Spike’s own cock. He redoubled his efforts, moving his thumb up and down, all the way to the base of Sam’s cock, and fucking him with it … behind his sac, in front of it, and around his crown… each motion earning him a sound of pleasure.

 

Groans edged with pleasure and need were breaking from all three of them. The sounds inflamed Spike, driving him closer to the edge. 

 

Sam hissed his pleasure. From the way Spike stroked him, made every touch count, made him ache and pulse, he was clearly a pro at this. He was making him feel so good, so good. He noticed how hard Spike was, how his cock was straining against his pants. "Come up here Spike." Sam moved so he was kneeling up near Dean's head. He watched as Spike pushed off Dean’s chest and got on his knees. "It's time to learn to share."

 

On his knees, and facing Sam who was on the other side of Dean, Spike tried to read Sam’s mind. Unable to, he leaned in and gripped the guy’s hips, dragging him close so that his jeans covered cock rubbed against Sam’s, and Dean would see them fused together like a pyramid right above him. Any minute now, he expected expletives to spew out of his lover, and yet he was powerless against the need to see where this went. When he saw Sam’s eyes close for an instant, he managed to give a mocking, “are you mixing lust up with caring?” 

 

"You mean like you?" Sam answered closing the distance and kissing him. He gave Spike plenty of tongue, giving a sloppy wet kiss before pulling back. "I want you to help Dean." He started pushing him down.

 

“Been around the block more times than you can count, mate. I know the difference.” He looked down at Dean who was fighting against the restraints, straining to touch them. He tried not to think of which of them Dean would reach for if he could. 

 

He knew Sam was guiding him down lower on Dean’s body, but Spike insisted on bringing his mouth down over Dean’s first… kissing him like he did whenever Dean was retrained, either physically or more often, by his commands. Then he dragged his mouth down over his chest, leaving a trail of burning kisses, licking and biting him in all the places that counted, sometimes over and sometimes under his tee shirt.

 

He felt Dean’s hips arch up, and smiled against his abs. “Getting there, yeah?” And he did, making short work of Dean’s pants and pulling them down his thighs. “All for me?” he was goading Sam, but it was his way.

 

Sam got hotter as he watched them kiss, watched Spike ramp up Dean’s need. He hunched over, running his hand over Dean's chest. His cock bumped Dean's mouth. "Of course it is. Dean can't resist you no matter what state he is in..." He swallowed the rest of his words when he felt Dean's mouth on his cock.

 

Dean started licking Sam’s shaft, moving his head rhythmically. His lips moved up and down the side and his tongue pressed along the vein before flicking at the slit of Sam’s cock. Finally… he got to taste, and his brother was so damned sweet. 

 

"C'mon, Spike, let me see you take my brother down." Sam urged Spike on.

 

“Want to see him fall apart again, yeah?” Giving Sam a knowing smirk, he straddled Dean’s lower body on all fours. Lowering down, he kissed and tongue fucked and practically ravaged his lower abs, and in the process, rubbed and brushed his throat over his lover’s straining cock, humming for good measure to give him a bit of vibration.

 

His fingers bit into Dean’s hips as he controlled him, prevented him from jerking too high… preventing him from stealing control over this. And the beauty of it… Dean’s mouth was stuffed tight, and he couldn’t complain verbally.

 

Sam was mesmerized by Spike's mouth and how he worked over his brother. He pulled Dean's shirt up more, leaning on one arm as he caressed his brother as his stomach trembled. He then looked down his own body to watch Dean take his cock into his mouth and start sucking, moving his full lips over his hard flesh. He gave a groan, "God, Dean." He was so good at that.

 

Dean had struggled against Spike. It was in his nature. Straining a bit before giving in. His nose was filled with the heady scent of his brother, of Spike and himself, all needing. His cock throbbed with need and he groaned and half whined, asking for more attention, even if his mouth was full. His fingers flexed in their bonds and then curled around the chains. It was then he felt movement upon the bed.

 

Sam reached for Spike's pants, "Turn around, lay beside him. I want your cock," Sam commanded.

 

“Bout bloody time.” Dragging his tongue along the length of Dean’s shaft, Spike got up and quickly lost his clothes. All of them. By the time he got back, Sam was still straddling Dean’s head and facing Dean’s feet. Spike lay on his side, with his knees bent, so his cock was near Dean’s shoulder. One growl from Dean though, and Spike’s attention was back on his hunter.

 

Spike gripped his lover’s powerful thighs, and this time there was no teasing prelude. Instead, he opened his mouth wide and took his lover’s cock, all of it, sucking and squeezing his cheeks to give him maximum pleasure. 

 

Dean pulled his mouth from Sam's cock and let out a pleasure filled sound. It filled the room and he swore as he always did. "Fucking hell," he still managed to lick Sam's cock again.

 

It was a benefit being a vampire, you didn't need to breathe so cock sucking didn't need breaks. Dean took his brother back down, mimicking the action Spike was giving him on his brother.

 

Sam fucked Dean’s mouth, and stroked Spike's cock, lowering his head to lick and run his mouth over its length. The vampire’s size and thickness pleased him. After laying a wet trail over Spike’s cock, he opened his mouth and covered his crown, sucking him slowly. 

 

The need in Dean’s voice triggered something inside Spike. Between that and Sam’s mouth closing around him, just enough of him to make him buck, Spike knew he was about to fall into an inferno of desire and lust. Anxious to get there, he raised himself up onto one elbow, and captured Dean’s sac, squeezing it, and sucking him off in alternate motions. God he loved it when Dean was out of control, and the moments right before… when he knew he would break… his hunter was very quickly marching to that point.

 

He started to ride Dean’s thick cock with his mouth. Sucking, fucking… dragging his tongue up and down his shaft. As Dean started to buck under him, Spike started to see white hot flashes in front of his eyes. Sam was getting to him… making him hurt so fucking good. Sodding hell, he should have known what it could be like to be with both brothers at once.

 

Dean was so so lost in lust, desire, and need, his inner demon was drowned out with every wave of pleasure wreaking havoc with his body. Greedy and hungry, he sucked his brother. His tongue pressing just right, rubbing Sam in the right places and then taking him further down his throat. He could feel Sam's desire. Taste it as he drank his leakage down. He moaned and then bucked right when Spike hit the right spot and the cry he let out was strangled and muffled by Sam's cock.

 

Sam in turn pumped his head over Spike's cock. And what he was tasting made his movements more wild and needy. He was taking him a little deeper. His tongue pressed and teased at the right places. His hand angled Spike's cock to just the right position. And then all he could think about was how good Dean was at was he was doing to him. Sam swore he was gonna release very very soon.

 

Deep in the throes of lust and need, Spike’s vampiric instincts took over. The need to claim was so sharp, there was no way to deny it. With his mouth, he claimed Dean, over and over, bringing him to the very edge three times and taking him back to prove he could.

 

And with his cock, he claimed Sam’s mouth. He threw his leg over Sam’s shoulder, holding him in place as he thrust his hips over and over, getting the friction he needed, skittering as close to the edge as he’d brought Dean. And he knew Sam was as close.

 

Dean felt his world starting to crack like ice in the hot sun. He bucked into Spike's mouth over and over. "Fuck, now, please." Dean plead.

 

Sam was too close as well and to hear his brother in that much need and to feel Spike fucking his mouth that hard had him on the edge as well. The instant Dean said he was coming, Sam felt his release start.

 

The bed rocked out of control as the three men climaxed in an explosion of guttural cries. Spike had grazed Dean’s thigh with his teeth and through their blood connection shared what he was feeling, and literally felt Dean crash and burn, melt down for both of them. 

 

Then there was a quiet after the storm, while they each recovered. Spike sat up and looked at the brothers, now lying next to each other. He leaned down over Dean and gave him a lingering kiss, then pulled away. For a moment in time, he put his ear over Sam’s heart, listening to it pounding, the way he did when Dean had been alive, then he kissed the younger Winchester too. 

 

When he pulled away, he was testing Dean’s restraints. “You alright, luv?” he asked.

 

A nasty laugh filled the air, only it was meant solely for Dean’s ears. “So this is how he loves you? He fucks your brother’s mouth, and then look … look how he puts his ear over his heart, isn’t that sweet?”

 

Spike felt Dean stiffen almost at the same moment as he felt that cold presence from last night. “Sam!” he said, sharply. 

 

Dean had been blissful. Happy and content. Only a pang of sadness washed over him as he watched Spike listening to Sam’s heart beating. Dean missed that cause back when he’d been human, it made Dean feel like he was really special. But then that voice filled the room and Dean turned his head, angry.

 

Sam was up off the bed scrambling to get the colt. He could feel the darkness fill the room and he knew whatever was causing it had to be around. He just couldn't see it.

 

"Shut up, you aren't real," Dean snarled. "You are feeding me lies, I won't listen anymore."

 

Spike tried to follow Sam, to get the damned scope to see through the lense what Dean was seeing. Instead, he banged into the damned force field and cursed. “Where is it?” he asked Dean. “I’m going to feed it it’s own cock, is what I’m going to do. Come out… where are you?” He was moving his arms over Dean, trying to feel for whoever or whatever was posing as Angelus.

 

And that was when the demon figured out it was trapped. “No!” Angelus’ voice went strangely feminine.

 

Dean struggled, "Let me go, I can see it." He tried to get loose. "LET ME GO, DAMNIT!" Dean shouted at Spike.

 

Sam pulled the gun out and searched for any sign of the demon. "Where is it. Dean! Where is it?"

 

"He’s at the foot of the bed," Dean snarled then frowned as he heard the voice go female. He looked about for the source. 

 

"No, there is another, little girl," Sam shouted. "Spike, look under the bed."

 

The vampire did, and still he saw nothing. “Pass me the holy water,” he snarled, catching the flask that Sam tossed to him. Then he was back under the bed, spraying it all over. The unmistakable smell of burning flesh filled the room, and then he saw her. 

 

“Come here, you little bitch,” he snarled, grabbing the child by her leg and dragging her out so hard that her head hit the force field and she screamed in pain. Gripping her wrist, Spike started to spray the holy water near the foot of the bed, but nothing else appeared. 

 

“Free Dean,” he said. Neither he, nor Dean, nor this demon in a child’s body was going anywhere anyway, and Dean might want to teach the demons a lesson in what happened to anyone who messed with him… or with any of their family. “What about Angelus?” he added.

 

“Not around,” Dean shook his head. Angelus had been an apparition, he knew that now.

 

Sam moved over, feeling safe that Spike had the demon child under control. He started getting his brother free and once one of Dean's hands were undone, Sam pulled on a pair of pants.

 

Dean didn't have to worry about it, his pants were done up quickly and he was undoing his ankles. He jumped up and snarled "Who are you!" He shouted at the little girl.

 

The girl screamed then snarled at Spike before her eyes flashed white and sent him sailing across the circle to hit the other side. "You two have been a pain in my side. And then you had to change him," she looked at Spike. "Well it's not going to save him. Not going to save you, Dean." She looked at him.

 

Sam raised the gun, making ready to fire but then the gun flew from his hand, clattering under the bed.

 

“Fucking hell.” Literally. Spike wiped a hand over his mouth, and pulled his jeans on, then rounded on her. “You’re too late. We’ve already saved him, yeah? And now, they’re going to send you straight to hell.”

 

Catching her by the hair, he returned the favor, slamming her face repeatedly into the force field until a trail of blood ran from her nostrils. “Sam, this might be a good time to pick up the bloody gun, or use your damn ‘abilities’” he said, opting for the word the brothers used. Powers would have been his choice.

 

Dean was literally diving under the bed as was Sam. Dean saw the gun first and grabbed at it.

 

The little girl turned and back-slapped Spike with a force stronger than a slayer and raised her hand, ready to burn him down. "You have bothered me for the last time." She snapped and a white light of energy shot from her hand.

 

Sam threw his body in front of Spike, ready to take searing heat. But then when the light cleared, nothing happened. He wasn’t burned.

 

Dean trained the gun on her.

 

"He's the cause of this all," she shouted to Dean, indicating Spike. "He's the one who has brought this all on you. He didn't have to change you. He just wanted you to be like him." Dean looked over to Spike.

 

The words Spike had for Sam, chastising him for putting his life at risk like that, died in his mouth. He glanced at Dean’s hard face and couldn’t tell what was going through his mind. “She’s right. I didn’t have to. And she’s right, I wanted to… until I actually did it, I wanted to so bleedin’ bad.” He bit his lower lip, and swallowed. “In the end, it was a choice between letting go and not. I couldn’t do it,” he shook his head. “Couldn’t let you go.” Laser blue eyes pleaded with Dean’s to believe, to stop listening to her.

 

Dean snarled and he felt the pang of anger as Spike agreed with the child demon. She had been right. Spike admitted to it but as he kept talking, echoes of his own decision were slamming his mind. Dean remembered not being able to let Sam go. To let down his family. To fail at everything. 

 

With a determined gaze, Dean aimed the Colt at the pair. Sam was panic stricken, fearing Dean would hit Spike instead of the girl but then as if in slow motion, the bullet left the chamber, shot out the barrel and struck the child.

She didn't have time to cry out as the bullet took effect, sending red and yellow sparks through her then white light appeared as if through cracks in her body jolting with pain. She slumped to the floor, eyes open in death.

 

Sam moved over, looking down and swallowing hard.

 

Angelus dissipated. He'd never been real, just something she'd pulled out of Dean's mind and used to fuel his anger, jealousy and hatred, all easily brought to the surface because of the demon inside him.

 

"Sodding hell... I thought..." If Sam's paleness was any indication, Spike wasn't the only one who'd thought he was a bleedin’ goner. His gaze dropped to the gun still in Dean's hand, then traveled back up to his eyes.

 

Dean dropped his arm then the gun on the bed. "Let us out, Sam." He spoke as he looked away from Spike.

 

Sam’s heart was heavy. This was another first... they’d killed a child. It didn’t make it feel any better to know she’d been possessed. He pulled his knife out to break the circle.

 

"I'll do it," Spike offered. "I'll bury her." 

"No, I shot her, I'll do it," Dean answered.

 

As he watched Dean move toward Sam, Spike wondered if that was a message. Spike had been offering to do it instead of Sam, but probably Dean wanted to go off with his brother. "Right... only you two... not until you have your soul, you're not going anywhere without me," Spike said. Part of it was he was afraid Dean would go off again, even though they'd stopped his tormentors. Another part was... well, he still wasn't sure whether Dean was going to be making a choice after he got his soul. Was he choosing his brother? Was he leaning towards something other than a complete family?

 

Sam paused and saw this look in Spike's eyes. Something the vampire was trying hard to hide. Worry. Fear. Jealousy. Possession. "No, I think you two need to stay here. I think you have some things to work out. Together. Besides, sunlight. Not good for your completions."

"What's to work out?" In denial, Spike hauled Sam up before he escaped the circle. "Come on mate, let us out," he whispered in a low, seductive voice. The sort that affected humans the most.

 

"No," Sam wiggled and jerked himself away. "You two need to work out your ... jealousy issues."

"Jealousy issues?" Dean turned and faced Sam. "I'm not jealous. You’re jealous?" He looked at Spike.

 

"Of course he is or he wouldn't have said ‘no’ to you going with me to bury this girl," Sam answer and then stepped back one step, pulling the body out of the circle with him.

 

"I'm not... right...maybe. Still, you can't bloody well leave us here. Sam." Right, he hated being ignored, or that grin spreading over Sam's face. "Bastard."

 

Sam merely smirked.

 

"Bitch," Dean muttered at his brother as well.

 

"Jerks," Sam called back as he opened the door and headed out to bury the child.

 

Dean looked at Spike, "I can't believe he just left us stuck here. I am sooo gonna, gonna, well I'll think of something to do to him. Maybe hot sauce in his beer."

 

"Maybe vaseline on the door knob so he can't get back in." As if he could even get to the bloody door. Spike's scowl grew deeper when he noticed the remote control was out of reach too. He only stopped cursing when he saw the look of amusement on Dean’s face.

 

Spike sat down and stared at Dean for a long moment, eventually speaking. 

"He's right. We need to work this out. Now that they're not screwing with your head, what do you think? You and me? You, me and Sam? Or... You and Sam?" He knew he had Dean's attention now. "Meant what I said. The decision is yours to make."


	11. Chapter 11

Dean kept looking at the door then turned to face Spike as if he only now heard Spike for the first time. He never did like to talk about his emotions or feelings so his first instinct was to try avoidance. "You really think us talking about our jealousy issues is gonna make a difference?"

 

“I’m not the one with the issues.” Spike gave him an accusatory look, then relented. “Just need to know the rules. I... somewhere along the line they got blurred, yeah? Am I going to lose you? Him? If I knew, would make things easier.” The bloody hell they would, but knowing was better than not knowing.

 

Dean quirked an eyebrow then shook his head, "You worried about losing me? To Sam?" Dean rolled his eyes and turned away. "Look, you’re not losing me. Not losing anyone."

 

“What about all the things you said, you thought?” Narrowing his gaze, Spike didn’t let it go. “I know the demon was playing with your mind, but...” he cocked his head to the side, “usually there has to be a weakness... something the demon can use. What’s going to happen the next time I touch Sam? Will whatever the hell Angel ... Angelus told you in your head come back? You were so angry... not sure how to act around you anymore.”

 

Dean turned back and looked at him. "What do you expect me to say? To do? Huh? Oh sure, everything is gonna be fine? Not gonna happen."

 

Spike had it. Days of worrying, of not knowing where they all stood. Fear of losing his family... of possibly having to choose between them... it all came to a head and he no longer had to keep it together because Dean had been captured and he was stuck right here... he couldn’t harm anyone, couldn’t get away.

 

Moving like a whipcord, he slid to the edge of the bed, and gripped Dean by the front of his shirt, pulling him close until they were face to face. “Want you to tell me what’s in here,” he said, poking him hard on the chest. “I want the truth... is all I want.”

 

Dean squinted his eyes, so close to Spike's face. He felt his lower lip quiver a little as he struggled against himself. He didn't want to spill out what was inside cause usually it really didn't matter. His father never heard or saw it.

 

But this father... his sire... he was waiting on an answer, his laser blue eyes drilling into him, compelling him. Dean hesitated, a lot, and looked away when he broke. "I never had anything of my own. And just once I wanted that."

 

“You don’t think you have that?” Spike demanded, cupping Dean’s chin and forcing his face back around. “All this time... you don’t know? You have it... twice over. I told you if you want to leave with me, I’ll do it. I mean it, because much as you’re mine... I’m yours.” He looked toward the door and back at Dean. “And Sam is yours. You’re blind if you don’t see that. If you asked him to walk away, with you... he’d do it, much the same as me.” 

 

A lump rose in Spike’s throat, but he swallowed over it. “I do love your brother Dean, but I love him like family....I love him because you love him. It’s not the... he’s not the fire in my soul, he’s not the first thing I think about when I open my eyes, and he’s not the one my heart would break for if I... if we weren’t together. I think it’s the same for him. He loves me... but he’s in love with you.”

 

Releasing him, Spike ran a hand over his face. “We’re back to what do you want to do. It’s all about you, yeah?”

 

"So tell me. If Angelus walked in the door? Would you still be saying that?" Dean swallowed hard, fearing the answer and wondering, would it be a lie?

 

“Angelus who?” Grabbing him again, Spike covered Dean’s mouth in a hard, angry kiss. The git should know better. He gripped Dean’s hair and tugged his head back. “He’s got nothing on you. Makes you feel any better, I never let him bugger me. Never, and he’s my grand sire. Any how idea how hard it is to disobey?” Dean should have an idea. “You didn’t even have to ask...” he pushed him, and wiped his burning mouth. 

 

Dean's mouth throbbed from the kiss. When he was pushed away, his tongue glided over his lips, still tasting his lover on them. "I just ..." He looked down for a second, then closed the distance between them, "If you want me to, I'll ask," his kept his voice low, to that tone that he knew would penetrate the Vampire’s anger and get him warm.

 

Spike suddenly stilled as heat flushed through his system. He scooted back on the bed, arms stretched out to pull Dean with him. "Ask then." He nodded, pulling Dean's shirt up so when he landed on him, Dean’s mostly bare chest pressed against Spike's. "Fuck..." he cursed at the intensity of lust gripping him, body and soul.

 

Dean lowered his head to and slowly licked his way from Spike’s chest, over his throat and then up to his ear. He brushed his lips over the perfect shell of an ear, tickling and teasing with his touch since his breath no longer came out warm. He ran one hand over Spike's chest as he leaned on the other. There were many things he missed about being human but this made up for it. The feel of Spike's skin quivering under his touch. "Spike," Dean started, "Lover," he paused again to let the word sink in, "Let me fuck you."

 

Spike raised his hips, needing to feel the full force of Dean's arousal pressing against his. Bloody hell, the things that boy's voice did to him... if he ever realized his powers over his sire.... Their eyes locked. "Think you're man enough, do you?" 

 

Dean kept green eyes locked and yet he didn't answer. The only answer Spike got was Dean's mouth coming down over those lips in an intense kiss. His hips rested down fully over Spike's and rubbed, up and down, side to side, grinding and getting friction. His hand slipped along Spike’s chest to find a nipple to pinch and roll before he pulled back, sitting on Spike's hips to pull his shirt off over his head. Eyes never leaving Spike’s, he dropped back down with a hand on either side of Spike’s body, and melded their mouths together, licking, sucking and then fucking his lover with this tongue first.

 

If Spike had expected an answer, being manhandled by his child was more than good enough. Groaning into Dean's mouth, he swept his hands down Dean's back, forcing his hips down harder against him. Their tongues danced and battled, their fingers bit into each other as the heat between them intensified to scorching hot.

 

Spike rolled Dean under him and kissed him so hard, he tasted blood. He needed Dean, his Dean so badly... he needed to know things would turn out all right. Pinning Dean's arms at either side of his shoulder, he lifted his head. "Wait..."

 

He put his ear against Dean's throat, closing his eyes as he waited. And there it was... "Oh God... how do you do that? Your heart used to catch... and now your blood does..."

 

Dean felt his fingers flex as he was pinned there. He frowned, thinking he’d done something wrong. Wondering why Spike was asking him to wait. But then as Spike leaned down, he closed his eyes, remembering how Spike used to lean in just like this to listen for that moment when his heart would catch, would skip a beat. 

 

Oh God... he used to look forward to that moment, it was something no one else could give Spike, and he’d thought he’d lost it with his humanity. His throat constricted. Opening his eyes he looked at his lover and whispered, "It must be you."

"Might just be right." Giving Dean a smug look of satisfaction, Spike suddenly brought Dean's wrists up above his head and bent them back so Dean's elbows were pointed at the roof. "Don't move. Not a muscle..."

Dipping his head down, Spike proceeded to love ever part of Dean. He kissed his eyes and ran his mouth over every contour of his face. Swiping his tongue over the seam of Dean's mouth, he sucked Dean's tongue into his mouth and though it was Dean's tongue doing the fucking, there was no question of who was in control of the kiss.

Pulling away, Spike moved his mouth down Dean's neck, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses at the hollow of his throat, and down his chest. He teased and mercilessly scraped his teeth over Dean's nipples, licking him better and repeating a few inches down.

When he reached Dean's belly button, he gave it all of his attention while Dean started to buck under him... needing that attention on his cock. "Patience," he muttered, moving lower and lower, sliding his wet tongue down Dean's hip, to the juncture of his thigh, and then moving past his throbbing cock.

With his hands and mouth, Spike kissed every inch of Dean's legs, constantly running his hands up his thighs, sometimes brushing his now rock hard cock. When Dean's hips started rocking up and curses filled the air, Spike crawled up Dean's body, laying down on him as he gave him a hard kiss. "Alright lover, come show me what you’ve got for me."

Up on his knees, he shucked his jeans, moved to the head of the bed and gripped the headboard, looking over his shoulder at Dean.

Dean hadn't move the whole time. His skin tingling and dancing under the wet trails of Spike's lips. He’d shivered and cursed, fingers flexing and gripping the sheets as he’d tried not to move his arms, his biceps bunching as he pushed up, arching his back with need for more touches. At times his eyes were closed tight, jaw clenched shut, teeth feeling like they would crack. Then he would relax lift his head up and look down his body to the white blond head traveling down his body. His eyelids would flutter and his head would drop back, more curses leaving him.

 

And then when Dean swore he could take no more, Spike was up over him, pressing body to body and lips against lips. Dean's mouth took him eagerly, fucking him with his tongue and trying to gain some of that control back he had allowed himself to lose. And then came the offer and Dean’s world stopped turning.

As soon as Spike parted from him, Dean shifted as well, rolling to his hands and knees, looking up the length of Spike's body, his milky white thighs... ass... back...holy... The heated invitation in Spike’s eyes was too much and Dean didn't hesitate. He’d been teased to the very edge. His cock ached and leaked with desire.

 

With vampire speed, Dean was right up against Spike. As he moved his parted lips down Spike’s spine, he gripped Spike’s hip with one hand and aligned his cock with the other, eagerly pushing his inside and instantly being overwhelmed by the feelings and sensations washing over him.

 

 

Spike arched back at the blinding heat shooting through his system. He gripped the edge of the headboard so hard his knuckles whitened. Head thrown back, he forced himself to relax, knowing Dean wouldn't go slow, not now... he'd teased him too long for that. 

 

And then Dean was talking in his ear, in that low pitch that drove Spike insane with need. He pushed back, groaning at the thousand points of pleasure in his body... everywhere they touched, every time Dean's powerful thighs pressed into the back of Spike's legs, every time he ground his hips and his sac slammed into Spike's, each touch of his hand, as he pushed and pulled Spike in different directions and angled his thrusts for maximum pleasure. "Sodding hell... what are you trying to do to me?" he managed to grunt out.

 

The sound of the bed complaining was almost deafening. Dean leaned into Spike, his hips hammering, taking, and claiming. He ran his mouth back and forth from Spike’s shoulder to his ear, speaking low. He knew it was something that drove Spike crazy and from the way Spike was pushing back, it was working.

Dean whispered, "You’re mine, you got that. You were put on this earth for me. Not for him, not Sam, but me. Your sire made you just for me and now it’s time for you to know that." He scraped his teeth down the back of Spike’s neck.

Each time Dean drove inside him, Spike had no doubt that this was anything short of a claiming. His child was claiming him. He should be angry, should put him in his place, but he was in the grips of this thing that was between them from the first moment they'd laid eyes on each other. An obsession. A love. A need that couldn't be denied. A hunger that would never be satiated. "Yes... yes, yours," he agreed, biting his lower lip as pleasure and pain coursed through his body. "Made for you Dean. This... it's only for you.

 

A firestorm raged inside Spike as Dean's fangs teased and scraped, his tongue pulsed over the sensitive area on the side of his throat. "Oh God... go on, do it," he pleaded, wanting the connection... needing it. Needing it so badly, he was clawing behind him with one hand, trying to force Dean's head forward.

 

Dean could feel Spike responding, wanting ... pleading. Shivering with pleasure, he teased some more, scraping his teeth, then pushing down hard enough so his fangs dented Spike’s skin, but pulled back just as quickly to use his tongue to sooth the marks he’d made. He was showing his Sire that though Spike might still control him in ways, Dean had tricks up his own sleeve... and he wasn’t going to follow orders... he’d do this on his own terms and his own time frame.

 

He teased and played until he was good and ready, and then he suddenly sank his teeth deep into his lover, claiming Spike fully in every way.

 

Spike had been about to complain, to demand the teasing stop, when Dean unexpectedly changed tactics and united them in the way only a vampire could. A strangled cry broke from the back of Spike's throat as he let go, let Dean drive them home. 

 

Hanging on while he was getting fucked within an inch of his unlife, and dealing with the sensations generated by every motion of Dean's mouth hungrily lapping at his throat was about all he could handle right now. Through their blood connection, he saw flashes through Dean's eyes... what his lover saw in him, how he wanted him, how he needed to know he would always come first and last. "Yes," he answered the silent questions asked through the bond, 'yes, Dean... yes luv, some things are just us. This... this is just us.' 

 

It was all Dean needed to hear, needed to know. He responded so fiercely to the answer it was a wonder his heart didn’t start to beat once again with life. He fucked harder, stiffening as he released with such force he shouted his lover’s name. 

 

His hips were still locked in tight against Spike's ass and his cock still pulsed deep inside him, when Spike too finally found peace. He pulled his mouth from Spike’s and rested his forehead against his shoulder, loving the way his lover shuddered in his arms.

 

Every part of Spike's body felt the strain of how hard they'd come together. Lips pressed together, he was smiling as he leaned back against Dean and tried to come back to himself. "That was... bloody marvelous, yeah?" They took their time, neither one moving for a while, just taking comfort in the feel of each others' bodies. "There'll be no more nonsense about leaving. Any of us," he said, as if laying down the law now. 

He felt Dean pull away, was afraid for a split second, but only until his lover pulled him down to the bed and they lay there, naked, spent, and staring into each others' eyes. 

Dean stared into Spike's eyes, his gaze only now and again drifting to his lips before back again. "No more." He reached, pushing a sweaty strand of hair back into place. "I will always love Sam. He's my brother.” How could he put it, "Dad gave him to me to take care of, to watch over, and most of my life was about that... about making sure he was okay. I ... never had anything of my own I wanted, that wasn’t about responsibility or anything else... just about me. Till you.” He bit his lip wondering if this was all coming out wrong. “We both love Sam. He loves us both. I can share. But I just ... need to know." Dean wasn't gonna get any more emotional, chick flick moment-y than he was right now.

Spike knew what Dean was trying to say. "You've got me. I'd do anything for you, anything. Except put on a bloody dress, I can see the wheels turning in your head, yeah?" He leaned in and kissed Dean, his mouth sliding over his lovers, his tongue stroking every corner of that sweet hot mouth of his. Then he pulled back. 

 

"It's very simple, don't make it more complicated than it is. I love Sam, but you're my... true love You can make your jokes if you want, but I used to be a poet, and that's what I wrote about... the most elusive notion, but also the most sought after. I found it now, in you."

Dean couldn't help but crack a grin, "Well, I guess you and Sam have something in common. You write it and he can read it." He rolled to his back, leaving his hand on Spike’s chest. "Kind of good knowing that.” Before he said anything else, he heard the sound of the Impala's trunk being opened. "Sam's back."

 

Spike sat up and started cleaning himself and Dean off. "How about we drag him into the shower and give him something he doesn't expect?" Smirking as an idea formed in his mind, he added. "Not the sort of revenge he'd be expecting. I suppose he did have a point, and it's good... to have this cleared up."

Dean sat up, "Give him a swirly in the toilet?" Dean then grinned and nodded, "Yeah, I have a feeling he’s standing at the car debating if he really wants to walk in." He then looked at the circle then sat at the edge of the bed to wait for his brother.

 

Sam placed his hand upon the door and with a deep breath, opened it. "Okay, you guys good?"

 

"Dean's dead. I staked him. 's all your fault."

 

Sam looked at Spike then to his brother, "Well, technically he was already dead when I walked out of here. As for you staking him, don't blame that on me."

"Gotta blame someone," Dean offered up. "Now will you let us out?" He motioned down with his head.

 

Sam walked over about to toe it then looked at them, "Is everything good?"

 

"Do you mean did I tell Dean what's the what? Don't you trust me?" he asked silkily. "Come on pet, let us out. Need a shower before we head for the Shaman."

 

Sam gave them one more look then broke the circle.

Dean was on his feet quickly and grabbing his brother, hauling him over his shoulder. "I got him, you get the cold water!."

 

"WHAT?!" Sam shouted.

 

"Didn't think we were going to let you get away with it, did you? You must be the naïve Winchester, then." Spike moved into the bathroom, turned on the shower and stepped back. Watching Sam struggle against Dean's vampiric strength was amusing, though he knew if Sam were trying to hurt Dean, he wouldn't be at such a disadvantage. Both brothers, in human form, had the fighting skills to get the best of many non-human things, including vampires. 

"Just push him in," Spike advised, seeing Dean was torn between undressing Sam or putting him in.

 

An instant later, they had one very tall, very complain-y Winchester singing curses like Spike had never heard coming from his apparently non-so-innocent mouth. "After you," Spike swept his hand toward the shower, letting Dean in first. "Make sure the water's warm for me."

 

Dean seemed proud of himself as Sam danced around then gave in and stood still under the cold water spraying over him.

"Jerk." Sam grumbled out.

 

"What bitches get for trying to best his big brother," Dean smirked and climbed in, turning the hot water on then diverting his attention to getting his little brother's clothing off. "You get the pants and the shoes." He was behind Sam pulling at Sam's shirts.

 

"I hate you both," Sam grumbled.

 

"Shut up and raise your arms," Dean tugged.

 

"We love you too. Come on, don't be difficult," Spike said struggling with Sam's wet zipper. "Right, what have we here. We've been talking about this for hours... and hours... hours that you left us locked up. Our imaginations..." he cocked his head, leaned forward and kissed Sam's cock over his briefs, then peeled both the jeans and briefs down in one go. "Be a good boy and lift your leg, yeah?"

 

"You what?" Sam looked down as he raised his arms up and then his face was covered with wet material and a struggle to get his shirts off. He raised his leg up and nearly fell into Dean which made his breath catch as he felt his bare back touch Dean's bare chest.

 

"Yeah, you know how my imagination goes and you should see his. Dude, you are in such big trouble." Dean got the shirts off and tossed them aside.

"Dean's quite kinky... something you didn't know? He can be right scary, and I've been around the block some." As he swept his hand up Sam's body, he felt his abs tighten under his palms. "Do you hear his heart, Dean? Think he's worried. He doesn't know about the... does he?"

 

Dean wrapped his arms around Sam, closing his eyes he nuzzled wet hair. He was listening to Sam's heart as it was speeding up from their mere touches. He smiled, "He doesn't know," he answered as his hand ran down Sam's chest to move over Spike's and caress his arm then back up again. "Should we tell him?"

 

Searching Sam's face with all the seriousness he could muster, Spike shook his head no. "I don't think he would take it too well. Best if we show him. What do you think Sam, you ready for this?" He gripped Sam's wrists as Sam's hands came up in a protective gesture. "Don't you trust us?" Recalling that Sam didn't like feeling trapped, Spike merely skimmed his mouth over Sam's water slicked inner arms, from wrist to elbow and released him.

 

Sam got a bit nerveous and Dean could tell. The way his muscles tensed, that look in his eyes. Dean leaned around Sam to look in his eyes.

 

"Um, yeah, I trust you both," Sam answered. He was watching as Spike's mouth moved over his arm. He jumped however when a foreign hand touched his cock and started stroking.

Dean pressed his body fully against Sam's back. "Then relax, Sammy."

After giving him a minute to do just that, Spike leaned in and started touching and kissing and stroking Sam's chest and abs, and shoulders, loving every part of him. He could feel Dean pressing from behind, his gaze dropped to watch as Dean stroked Sam's cock alive. "Think he likes that. Think he likes that a lot," he said, moving his mouth over Sam's. He kissed him like he'd never kissed him before, holding nothing back. He slid his tongue inside and out, moving to the same rhythm as Dean's hand stroking Sam's cock, faster and with more urgency until he engaged Sam's tongue in a heated battle.

 

Spike stepped closer, inserting one leg between Sam's, and pressing his knee up so that Sam was getting friction from Dean, and pressure from Spike. The way he was moving, responding, the sounds he was making told Spike they were getting to Sam just right. He deserved to be loved, God knows he deserved it more than Spike or his brother... and they would show him that they did love him. 

Without breaking the kiss, Spike blindly searched the soap dish and found the lube. He slathered some on his fingers, and reaching around, started to stroke up and down Sam's crack, lingering over his hole but not invading it yet. "Want Dean to fuck you, yeah? Be inside you... be part of you? You want to be the one who makes him come so hard there's no end?" As he spoke, he applied more ointment, this time slowly pressing a finger inside Sam and letting him get used to the feeling. "Tell him you want it."

 

Sam's head was spinning. First it started with the way Dean was touching him, stroking his cock with such skill, more than bringing him to life. It had been something Sam only had dreamed of. Next came Dean's cock which was pressed to him, threatening to push between his cheeks. Spike wasn't helping at all which was the intention as well. His tongue fucked Sam's mouth to life and in time with Dean's hand. If he could swear at this moment he would, but in a good way.

 

Now things got a bit unsure for Sam. Spike's voice tickled Sam's ear as well as Dean's lips on the other side. Sam was finding it harder to breath as those words trickled in. He shivered then eyes widen as that finger tickled and slid against his hole before pushing inside. Instinctively Sam's hips pressed forward, trying to get away but a foreign sensation came over him.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean breath. "It will only hurt for a moment but then," He squeezed Sam's cock and that got a reaction from Sam. A deep throaty half moaning beg sound that made the older brother nip at Sam's ear. "Spike can suck your cock. You want that?"

 

Sam felt his chest burning, all he could do was nod.

 

For another long few minutes, they stood there, Spike standing in front of Sam, arms around him, stroking his ass and preparing him for Dean, occasionally brushing Dean's ready cock. And Dean stood pressed up against Sammy's back, arms around him, stroking his cock faster and faster. Sam was squirming between them, almost breathless until Spike broke the kiss and dropped down to his knees.

 

Spike closed his hand around Dean's fist still stroking Sam, and guided Sam's crown into his mouth. He teased and sucked, all the while moving his free hand up and down Sam's thighs, loving how his muscles contracted each time his mouth moved. When he felt Sam's hips move forward, and his muscles go rock hard under his palm, he pulled off. "Relax. Come on, you'll be in heaven in a minute... trust us." Lowering his head, he went to work on Sam's cock, this time taking more of him, and trying to keep him distracted.

 

"Easy for you to say," Sam answered.

 

Dean pulled back just a bit, "He's good, isn't he?" Dean was using that as a distraction because what was to come ....

Sam swallowed hard, "Yes," he turned his head slight to Dean, his breath against his brother's cheek. It was hot, and fast, sometimes held before hissed out. Suddenly he felt his arms flay out, grabbing at the curtain and the tile. Pain. Burning. A fullness. Then an ache. Dean was inside him and it was all Sam could do to remember to breath. Though it all, he heard Dean whisper, 'trust me. relax. it will hurt but it will be gone soon.' All those were now buried under a fast heart beat.

 

As Dean crooned, Spike pleasured Sam using every trick he knew until he felt Sam start to thrust his hips forward. He was sure Dean was relieved, because if he knew the hunter, by now he was aching and needing to fuck, and a relaxed Sam was essential to that. With one hand pressed up against Sam's belly, Spike supported his weight and Dean's pushing into him slowly, but steadily. His other hand was under Sam's cock, pleasuring his sack, and brushing against Dean's each time Dean thrust.

 

The gutteral sounds filling the small steamy shower was so erotic, Spike felt as if he could come on command, without any stimulation at all. Lowering his head and moving between Sam's thighs, he started to lick the base of his cock, smiling when he felt desperate hands in his hair trying to force him back... trying to make him take Sam's shaft in his mouth again.

 

"Oh god," Sam hissed, fingers turning white as pain shot through him only to be mixed with pleasure. Dean's cock was moving in him and that burning pain was sliding off to be quickly replaced with pleasure. Spike's fingers worked their magic. "Never knew ... Dean ... Spike."

"Shh," Dean tried to ease his brother’s fears as he fucked him, trying to refrain himself from going to fast, too hard, too quickly. Spike wasn't helping with his touching. With his teasing of Dean's sac with his all too skilled fingers.

 

Sucking him a few more times, Spike pulled off but seamlessly grasped Sam's cock and worked it, moving his soapy closed fist up and down, never stopping, He pressed kisses up Sam's body, lingering at the natural indentations of his muscles. By the time he stood up and slanted his mouth over Sam's, he'd kissed every inch of his chest. He tasted good, so good, so fucking innocent. Breaking the kiss, he almost went wild at Sam's expression, the need, the hunger, the wonder. 

 

"Fuck him," his gaze snapped to Dean's as he stepped forward and brought his groin against Sam's. "Fuck him harder," he ordered, putting one arm around Sam's waist, and stroking Dean's back and shoulders with the other.

 

Sam was crushed between Dean and Spike as Dean fucked him within an inch of his life. Sam's breath hitched. The bathroom echoed with moans and groans, grunts and the sound of skin slapping against skin. Sam's cock was filled, throbbing and rubbing powerfully hard against Spike's hip. The friction was unbelievable. His head swam. His world became a blur of heat, pounding blood into his chest and ears.

 

Sam suddenly cried out, releasing at the same moment as his brother started too. It was so good, he didn't want to end. Ever.

 

Gripping Sam's shoulder, Spike came while watching his two boys grind together, neither one quite in control or coherent... God he loved them, loved this. Leaning in he kissed Sam, then over his shoulder, he gave Dean an open mouthed kiss before pulling away. 

 

"Realize next time we need a virgin sacrifice, we won't be able to use him?" Smirking, Spike lathered himself, and passed the soap to Sam. 

 

Sam took the soap, "I wasn't a virgin, I've had sex be..." Sam shivered as Dean pulled from him, "Before." He looked back to his brother and found his mouth covered in a kiss.

"Well you are SO not now," Dean smirked and smacked Sam's ass. "Now hurry up with the soap."

 

Sam rolled his eyes, yep this was his Dean, now to get his soul back.

 

* * *

 

The drive up the mountain was the most fun Spike had since they'd been at the amusement park. Dean blared his music and beat his hands on the steering wheel, occasionally looking at Sam and Spike to see if he could get a reaction out of them. When that didn't work, he just raised the volume even higher. The thing of it was, neither Spike nor Sam could drum up even the slightest bit of irritation. Not now, not after the nightmare he'd put them through. They had him back, and he wasn't murderous... and they knew he'd been messed with, and they couldn't ask for anything more. Well, one thing more, but that's what they were after.

 

The narrow lane going up the mountain was lonely, and they saw fewer and fewer vehicles the farther they got from the town. They stopped to let Sam relieve his bladder, while Spike smoked and Dean sat on the hood of his car, watching out for his boys. 

 

Dean easily sucked down the human blood Sam had brought from the hospital when he'd had the other two locked in the devil's triangle. Neither Dean nor his Sire could have looked more proud. Sam returned and stood there like a know-it-all, until Spike smacked him upside the head and reminded him again of his reasons for having tried to force the animal blood down Dean's throat. Sam wasn't buying it, so Spike turned to Dean and smacked him upside the head for being 'complicated.' Whoever heard of a vampire who was allergic to animal blood? Might not like it's taste, it did take getting used to, but his reaction had been extreme.

 

After a bit of grumbling and pushing and threatening, all three piled back into the car. At spike's direction, they turned off from the road and started to drive on an even narrower, unpaved trail. Despite the doubts of the others, he knew exactly where they were going.

 

They finally arrived at an area where a handful of tents had been pitched, right near the entrance to a cave. "The Shaman's inside the cave," Spike told them. They got out and headed near the entrance. Spike caught Sam by the shoulder. "He's got to go it alone from hereon, mate. Dean, the Shaman will want to bargain. Keep it reasonable this time, yeah?"

 

Sam looked from Spike to his brother. Worry written across his face as he remember the last time Dean made a deal. That was why they were in the situation they were in now.

 

"Don't worry, Sam," Dean tried to assure, "It's all or nothing this time."

 

"That’s what I'm worried about. I know you, Dean." He saw that look his brother gave him, "Look, I do know you. I've been looking up to you, trying to be like you since I could ever remember. I know the sacrifices you make for our family. Just, please, Dean..."

 

Dean cupped his brother's cheek, "Everything will be okay. Sam, I have a reason to live now. Well living in the sense ... well you know."

Sam gave him that sad look of his, "You just remember that."


	12. Chapter 12

While Dean was gone, Sam and Spike found themselves an empty tent and started to bring some of their supplies from the car. They could hear the sound of snoring and wondered what sorts of miracles other people were hoping for. Soon, they had a fire set up outside their tent and were talking and laughing. They each knew that part of this was a facade, their hearts were inside the cave with Dean, hoping he'd make a good bargain. 

Sam poked at the fire, a kettle hanging over it with coffee inside. Sam also had blood ready for when Dean returned but who knew when that would be? He poked at it again, the embers dancing up into the air, "Spike, why did you leave your other ... family?"

Spike stared into the flames and recalled China burning. The screams that pierced the air. The blood he and the rest of the fanged four left in their wake. "You wouldn't have like my last family. We were exactly the sort you'd try to kill." His gaze shifted to Sam, one hundred percent sure that if he'd faced off against that powerhouse of vampires, he wouldn't have lasted.... at least not without these strange powers of his. 

"It was back when I was William the Bloody. Between me, Dru, Angelus and Darla, the body count was..." he spread his hands. "Then Darla was dusted, Angelus went goody goody and later Dru left me when I was... was a time when I was injured, and for a long time I couldn't do the things I can now. Things changed too much, I changed too... started fighting for the other side. The things that held us together were gone by then." 

He'd tried to keep them together, but failed. "I didn't leave them. They left me one by one."

Sam looked over to Spike, seeing the images unravel in his head as the vampire talked about his prior life. To him, it was the stuff nightmares were made of. He looked away to poke at the fire once again. "It was a good thing some of those things happened then. Would have hated to hunt you down, knowing you as you are now." He’d had to kill one person he cared for, and there was a chance he’d have to kill his own brother if he went berserk again. 

Sam shifted, "Would you go back to that life if they called you?"

Spike shook his head no. "I've got a new family now. I don't leave the people I love." He felt Sam's stare, and thought he might be thinking to when he had left. "Not unless there's... unless there's a reason. A good one. You left yours once. Thought you had a good reason to." Right, he'd had enough of the weighty talk. "How about some coffee," he jerked his chin toward the kettle as he pulled out a smoke and lit it. 

Sam reached for a cup and spooned some out of the pot. "At the time, yes. I thought if I got away from all this, I could live a normal life. It's all I wanted." 

They sat in silence for a while, and then Spike felt the weight of Sam’s gaze. He cocked his head in question.

"Okay, I have to ask, did you ever have a girlfriend, well I mean besides the one you ... Dru I mean. Or has it always been men?"

"You're asking if I'm a bloody poofter?" Spike threw his head back and laughed. "I've had more women than men. With men, it's been either about power or love... or the woman between us," he smirked. "If you've lived long enough, you start asking why should you be limited to one sex, yeah? Remember Dark Haven? Vampires mix it up." 

He blew out a few rings of smoke, then looked back at Sam. "For Dean... it was about being drawn to the dark, going to the club where he met me. A way for him to do something outside what he'd do as ‘Dean the son of John,' yeah? And you... you're complicated too. You had feelings for him, and ran. And then you had them under control until... us. I thought maybe you'd reached the same point Dean had... starting to look to touch a bit of the dark side, but I'm not so sure."

Sam shook his head with a smile, "Dean has always lived on the edge. Or tried to. After he made that deal, he was reckless and getting worse every day. So yes, maybe drawn to the dark, but I it was more about ‘looking for Dean Winchester’ than trying to do something our father would not approve of. As for me, you forget, I have a dark side already." 

"Your dark side is... _sweet_." He was right, it was there in him. So long as it was controlled, it would be alright. But if it bubbled over, from what Dean had told him... 

"Now we're all tainted. Quite a family." Slapping his hand on Sam's thigh, he nodded toward the cave entrance. "Look who's grinning like he owns the bleedin' world. Come here you swaggering git," he shouted, completely ignoring the protests from the other tents. It was almost dawn, they should wake the bloody hell up. 

Sam gave a chuckle then looked up to see Dean approaching. He stood up, trying to read his brother's face and body language. 

Dean walked up, grinning, "Aww, you guys made coffee for me." He moved over and sat down, grabbing a cup.

"He's keeping us in suspense, you should have kept the coffee hostage." Spike watched him. "Went alright then. You didn't give away your life... or mine. Sam's still got one..."

"Said I had to make a sacrifice. Course I apologized that I was no virgin sacrifice. Anyway, it had to be personal so I just gave up sex for a month." Dean took a drink of his coffee.

Sam about choked on his, "You what? You?"

"Bollocks!" Spike's eyes were wide with horror. "You didn't... Dean?" His mouth tightened. "I'm starting to hate that poker face of yours. Dean?"

"What? At least I didn't have to cut my dick off or something." Dean looked at them both.

"Okay, okay, we can do it and it's reasonable," Sam answered. 

"My thinking," Dean took and other drink.

"Thirty days. That's a bloody month. Four weeks. Thirty one days..." making a face, Spike Bogarted the butt of his cigarette into the bushes. "Reasonable my arse."

Sam looked at Spike then gave a chuckle, "Damn, you make it sound like you have sex every day? It's not that hard. We can find other ways."

Dean nodded, "Yeah, don't worry. I mean it's not like the end of the world. Just a little sacrifice." 

"You're never doing the bargaining for us on anything." Though he was still a bit surly, Spike couldn't resist a bit of joking. "Wonder how you'll look in a chastity belt. You'll need one."

"Chastity belt?" Dean blinked at him, "Dude you try and put one of those things on me I'll make you wear it on your head. Besides, if I wore one, I'd look damn fine in it." Dean smirked.

"Look, we can do this for Dean. As much as he’s given up for me, I can do it." Sam nodded. "I'll help you, Spike." 

"Oh yeah, Sam's got the chastity thing down to a science." Dean grinned.

"Yeah. Once a month might be a bit too much for him, he's not used to having sex."

The joking went on, until the sun started to rise and they had to move inside the safety of a dark tent. Sam left every once in a while, rubbing in the fact he could walk in the sun. They tackled him once, but got too close to having sex with Dean... and let him go, only after Spike pointed out it wasn't gong to be as easy as either brother had predicted. Then there was an argument about whether there were 30 days left or 29, since it depended on whether the time started the night the deal was made, or from the dawn of the day it was made. Sam thought they should err on the side of caution and that Dean should abstain for 32 days, which made him very unpopular with the two vampires.

By evening, they'd talked so much their throats were raw. It was time to say goodbye. Time to let his childe leave for seven days and go through the trials that would earn him his soul back. Standing near the entrance of the cave, Spike was on edge. The last time he'd let Dean out of his sight, things hadn't gone well for them. There was that, and the fact he'd bloody well miss him. 

One arm around Dean, he stared intently into his eyes. "You come back to me different, but the same, yeah?"

Dean looked into Spike's eyes and he nodded, "I will. And you'll see, I'll be back to myself... well in a way, might be worse." He shrugged and leaned in to kiss.

Snaking his hand around the side of Dean's neck, Spike deepened the kiss, weaving his tongue around Dean's and giving him something to remember him by... something to come back for. "Be good, and don't fuck off the Shaman." Laying one more hard kiss on him, Spike moved away, walking back to the tent to let Sam say his good byes.

Sam moved up to his brother after witnessing the kiss that had his brother flushed a bit. "Be careful, Dean. I'm gonna stay here till you come out. I'm not gonna leave you."

Dean looked at his brother, remembering as a kid how he hated being left behind. Alone. He nodded, "Dad trained us well. He might have been an ass but ..."

"Yeah, I know." Sam pulled Dean into a hug. "I know you hate these chick flick moments." 

"Sam, the Shaman, he said things will be okay." He pulled back looking at his brother. 

"Better be," he whispered. He gave Dean a kiss. Soft and sweet, lingering for a moment. 

Dean pulled back, looking at them both before turning and disappearing into the darkness.

Sam watched his brother go. He looked to Spike then back at the opening of the cave. Something inside him wasn't feeling right.

* * *

[2 Days Later]

 

The depths of the cave dwelling stank of blood, sweat and tears. Gone were the usual fresh smelling tree branches that were brought in at dawn to chase away the must. The walls echoed with the sounds of groans of despair, as dark as the cavern itself, lit up by torches on the wall and the occasional fire pit.

Gretta walked close to one of the victims shackled with his back arched over a spiked wheel, his head close to the ground. His blood had soaked through the dirt, leaving wet stains on the ground that would only span wider over the next few days. 

Looking down at him, she had a clear view of his chin and nostrils, but his eyes were hidden, so she stepped back slightly. "Are you sorry yet, for Lillith? By the time we're through with you, you'll see that your soul may have escaped, but your body..." her eyes grew black, "it's all ours to torture... and you're hard to kill now. We can play for a long, long time."

Dean blinked, his body ached and his mind in a fog of pain and hunger for what he lost into the soil. He tried to wet his lips, but his mouth was so fucking dry, and his voice was hoarse from hours of screaming. "Lilith? Sorry? Ha!" He laughed, blinking as sweat dripped into his eyes. He licked his lips, his fangs half extended. 

"What's the your favorite phrase Dean? Payback's a bitch?" Tossing back her long blond hair, Gretta ran her fingers over the controls of the machinery. "How many notches ... hmm... lets see, one had you screaming like a baby, two had you screaming like you were giving birth..." Tic, tic, tick, she turned the dial. The ropes binding Dean to the wheel tightened, pushing his body down harder over the spikes, forcing the metal deeper inside him... his flesh... his bone.

Dean let out a pain-filled howl as the spikes bit into his body. He felt blood ooze. His flesh stung. He heard and felt sounds of his bones being punished. His own screams drowned out those around him. If this wasn't hell, he knew he was close to being in it. He let out a slew of swears, cursing Gretta. 

In the distance, Dean heard rattling of chains, screams, flesh tearing, bones breaking. He turned his head as tears were stinging his eyes. "SAM!" He screamed, "SPIKE!" 

* * *

"It's probably a demon," Spike said to Sam, who was giving him a disapproving look. "I didn't kill him, he's still breathing," he toed the man laying on the ground, and looked innocently back at Sam. "He's evil. Tried to tell me Stella is not the best beer this side of the pond."

"That's still no reason," Sam scolded the vampire. "I know you’re upset about Dean being gone but ... damnit, Spike." 

"I'm not upset... who’s upset. Make me sound like a bleeding girl. He's going to be fine, let's go." Shoving past Sam in the alley behind the bar, he headed toward the main street. 

He was bored, that's what he was. This was a one street town, one hour from their camp. A bigger town would be a day’s ride, but neither of them wanted to be that far in case there were any... issues. And those tents they were staying in, they weren't conducive to sleep. Spike could hear all the chatter coming from the other tents... other people whose family members would go into the caverns seeking help from the wise woman Shaman. 

Sam started walking, looking back to the man then following, "You are too." He grabbed Spike's arm to stop him. "Look, Dean said the Shaman, that they would contact us if anything went wrong. So stop taking out Dean’s not being here on others. If you need to, then take it out on me." 

"Take what out?" He shrugged Sam's hand off him. "You want me to... Told you it wasn't about that, and I'm not hitting you. You'd like it too much," smirking slightly, he gave nod. "Wouldn't be bad if we found something real to hunt."

Sam gave Spike a confused look. "You want to hunt. While Dean ..." He cut himself off and shook his head. "Fine, we'll find something to hunt. Let's go get a paper and see what we can find." He started walking past Spike, "And how would you know if I would like it." He bumped his arm in passing. 

Laughing under his breath, Spike followed. "Because you liked it so much the last time at Dark Haven ..." Wait, he'd let Sam beat him. "Memory seems to be on the fritz, looks like I owe you one. There’s a coffee shop, can get a paper there," he said, catching up to Sam's long strides. "Come on mate, you're not mad. Maybe you're the one who’s on edge about Dean."

"No, this is me. I do the same thing to Dean. I'm the one who keeps you two in balance. And out of trouble," He walked up to the coffee shop and grabbed a paper, "Carmel Mocha Latte," he ordered, having no fear of being picked on since Dean wasn't around. He placed the paper down. "You want some tea?" 

"Just because I'm from England?" Spike shook his head. "Coffee, black. None of that girly stuff he's having."

Sam looked at Spike, "You have been around Dean way to long." He reached into his pocket and pulled out some money to pay for it and then reached over and picked up a paper, going to a table to look through it for a case of the weird.

Spike brought their drinks and joined him. "He does grow on you, doesn't he? Right, you lived with him all your life." Reaching out, he took a piece of the paper and started thumbing through it as well. "This waiting game's about to do me in. Just want it to be over."

"Yeah, well, you aren't alone in that boat. At least you aren't making noises like Dean does ... yet," Sam circled an article and shoved it over to Spike, "We can look into this, close by. Might just be a ghost, witch maybe but," he shrugged. "Besides, it's only been what ... a couple of days. Dean assured me that the Shaman, he told Dean he would come out a new man, in a sense."

"New man, better not turn out _too new_.... hold on," Spike slammed the back of his hand into Sam's chest, "what was that about the Shaman. Did you say _he_?" When Sam didn't answer fast enough for him, he gripped his shirt and forced him to lean forward. "Sodding hell, answer me!."

"What?!" Sam reached up, trying to push Spike's hand away. "Will you chill out. You sent Dean to him. You’re the one who knows him. Dean didn't seem all too worried. What’s got you so worked up?"

"HIM... there's no 'him' Sam, the Shaman is a _woman_." Without releasing Sam, Spike got up, dragging him up as well. "It's all gone wrong again. Bloody hell... we're getting him out."

 

* * * 

 

The impala swerved as it came to a halt near the camp site. Neither man wasted time, heading immediately for the trunk. Spike hovered as Sam opened the secret compartment and loaded up on weapons, loading and passing a semi-automatic pistol to Spike, and several magazines. They tossed some weapons into a duffel bag and before Sam slammed the trunk shut, Spike took an axe. 

He knew the stern, determined look on Sam's face was reflected by his own, as they headed inside the cavern with single-minded purposeful strides. "If they've so much as touched him," Spike said out loud, through gritted teeth.

The torches on the walls on either side of them flickered, their smoke covering some of the scents coming from deeper in the cave. As they closed in, the scents hit Spike full force. "Blood. Come on, Dean's..." 

That was all it took to have them at a dead run. 

The main chamber looked like a scene out of some grade B horror movie. There were people in shackles, in cages hanging overhead, and being tortured on medieval and modern devices. Before they'd gone too far, people... people with solid black eyes came to stop them. Spike didn't care that their shells were human, he wasn't going to let that distract him. Pointing the gun he'd been given, he shot, and shot, and ran, swinging his axe at those who would stop him. He was always aware of where Sam was fighting his own battles, but at the same time, he was following Dean's scent.

When the demons came, unlike Spike, Sam knew that while the bullets would slow them down, holey water was more effective. As he sprayed them, the screams of the possessed echoed with those they had been torturing. 

"DEAN!" Sam shouted as he splashed his way through a group, kicking and slamming his elbow into those who thought to stop him.

The battle raged. The demons were determined and kept coming back for more. Spike went through the motions... grabbing, throwing, shooting, axing... hardly caring about the results. He had two things on his mind... the safety of Dean and Sam, that was it. The rest of the demons could go to bloody hell.

"Over here," he shouted, kicking a woman dead center in her chest, catapulting her away from Dean's body which was bent at that impossible angle over the wheel. As Sam covered him, sometimes using his strange powers to keep the attackers away, Spike worked to get Dean free of the chains and machinery. 

“Dean... bloody fucking hell,” Spike growled, sliding a shoulder under Dean’s arm pit and helping him slowly get off the wheel, knowing the agony his lover must be feeling. “Tell me you’re alright or every one of them is minced meat,” he growled. They would be anyway....  
Dean turned his head, body aching and he looked at Spike, his pale skin filled with worry. He gave Spike a little shrug, "I think they were trying to make me as tall as Sam."   
Sam turned, "Can we go now?" He let his knife slice through another demon before turning back to them.  
“No.” Spike jerked his head up to the cage hanging overhead holding the Shaman. “We need her, and the other humans...” Looking around, he noticed Sam had already freed the others who didn’t seem to be around. “Not bad for a days work. You get your brother out. I’ll take care of that.”  
Sam grabbed his bother from Spike, looking up at the female Shaman, "Hurry up, before others start appearing." He started leading Dean out.

Dean stumbled along with Sam, "I need blood," he managed to get out. "Quickly."

"I know," Sam answered as he was picking his way out of the cave.

Watching while his lovers headed out, Spike took care of another demon. He was lucky that most of them were wearing human skins and that he didn’t have Sam’s qualms. He cared, but he cared more about certain other things... like himself, and the Winchesters. There was no contest, nothing to think twice about when it was a choice between others and them.  
Ten minutes later, Spike was carrying the old woman over his shoulder and heading out of the cave to their tent. Other rescued humans were huddled around fires with their loved ones who’d brought them to the Shaman and had been waiting for them.   
He walked inside and put the woman down. She immediately arranged her traditional Native American clothing and gave him a steely look that made him wary. Wait, Vampires should not be cowed by tiny shamans...  
“Water?” Spike grabbed the cup Sam held out and gave it to the Shaman, and turned to watch Dean. He was alright... it’s all that mattered. How the bloody fuck had they delivered him into the hands of the demons like that?   
Dean was drinking the blood that Sam gave him and was watching Sam who’d waited until Spike got out, and was now pouring salt around the cave entrance to keep other demons from coming out.  
When he returned, he placed a hand on his hip and looked at the others. "Look, we shouldn't stay around here. That place is now a portal for Demons."   
"Sam's right," Dean answered.  
Right now, what the Shaman wanted was what counted. Spike lowered himself to her level and told her they had to leave and asked where they could take her. She merely pointed her bony finger. “Right... I think we have ourselves one of those satellite navigators, minus the bloody satellite,” he said, lifting her up again.  
Within minutes, they’d warned the straggler humans to leave this place, and they’d bundled into the Impala with Sam driving and Dean complaining. What else was new?

* * * 

Eight days later, Sam and Spike were nervously waiting outside the Shaman’s new camp. She had a large tent, and was now surrounded by volunteer warriors who protected her from demons, which she pointed out were lead to her by the Winchesters.

When they’d put Dean in her care again, Spike had been much more reluctant and scared. But they’d glimpsed Dean’s soulless dark side a few more times, and that had tipped the balance in favor of risking it.

“How do I look?” he asked Sam, having dressed very carefully. 

Sam looked at Spike, "Why are you getting all dressed up?" He shook his head, "You look fine. You looked fine before in the last four outfits." He took a sip of his coffee. 

“Learn how to count,” Spike muttered. He’d only changed twice.

Then Dean came walking out, his eyes looking like they were full of life, sparkling as he was walked out the Shaman’s tent. "Dean 2.0 is now available for download but only for a limited time. Please have your credit cards ready." He stood with his arms spread.

“Give you every credit card you’ve stolen, is what I’ll do,” Spike said, his eyes drinking in the sight of his lover with not a bruise on him this time. He glanced at Sam, and when the other man didn’t make a move, he did. Stepping forward, he pulled Dean into his arms, dragging him so close, so hard, it was a good thing his lover didn’t need to breath. “We’ve got lots of missed time to make up for, yeah?” he said thickly, before closing is mouth over Dean’s for a long, hard kiss. 

Dean wrapped his arms around Spike, holding him tight. He leaned in, wanting to give over to the sensations washing over him but he heard the old woman's voice in his head all to clearly. 

Pushing Spike back, Dean moved over and hugged his brother, knowing it was best to get away from Spike right at this moment or the deal would be broken and they would have to start all over.

"Is this really you?" Sam asked, looking at his brother.

Dean looked at him, "Yes. I'll prove it, bet you have girl's underwear on." 

"It's Dean," Sam pushed him away.

Spike laughed, “It is. Let’s get the hell out of here and...”

The tent flap opened and the Shaman walked out. The way her almost colorless eyes were staring at him and Dean was bloody disconcerting. Still, she’d done her part twice, once for him, and now for Dean. 

“Drink this,” she said, holding two small hallowed out gourds, and shoving them in Spike’s and Dean’s faces.

Dean looked at it and got a wiff. "Is it gonna taste as bad as it smells? Cause if it does, I'm gonna puke." He reached up to take the cup, knowing better now than to question her.

“Already have a soul here, why do I have to suffer?” A steely look from the wizened woman and Spike lifted the gourd to his mouth and drank every bit of the foul tasting liquid. “Tastes worse than a donkey’s arse... and don’t...” he pointed at both brothers, “ask how I know.”

Dean drank his down, making a face as he did, "Eww," He stuck his tongue out to clear the taste, then looked at Spike with a raised eyebrow, "We'll get you liquored up one night and get it out of you." 

"I really don't want to know," Sam answered stepping forward, "What was that stuff?" He asked the old woman.

Turning watery eyes on him, she almost smiled. “Of three, you are the one who might understand if I wanted to tell you. You would make a good Shaman, once your journey of darkness is over.”

Turning her attention back to the two vampires, she spoke again. “I owed you a boon, all of you, for rescuing me from the she-wolves of hell. It’s my gift, to all three of you. May you always walk in sunshine. May you have no reason to call upon my powers again.” With that, she ducked back into the tent.

Spike immediately followed her inside. “Sodding hell... it’s empty.” Even his vampiric senses couldn’t tell him one way or the other, whether she was there. “What was she going on about.”

Sam had gotten what she was getting at and he just smiled at Dean who looked just as confused as Spike. "She's not in there?" Dean leaned in and saw the empty tent.

Sam looked up at the sky, mouthing a thank you before answering Spike, "I understood her perfectly. She thanked both of you for saving her life by giving you the ability to walk in the day. In the sun. And it saves me from being a night owl because of the two of you."

“Don’t be a bloody idiot, that ‘walk in the sun’ thing is an ancient blessing, soft of like ‘may the wind always be at you back,’” Spike answered, giving Sam a look that said he was a bit off his rocker. But the way Sam was looking back at him, so sure of himself, it made Spike question. And hope. 

Dean gave a snicker, "It's so you don't fart out of your dick," He stopped snickering as the two gave him a look. 

The sun started to come up and slapping his hand on Dean’s shoulder, Spike began to drag him back into the shade when the realization his him... Dean wasn’t smoking... wasn’t going up in smoke... “Dean... Sam...” he stepped out, and even with proof of the light bathing his body, for an instant, he wondered if it was some sort of trick. 

Dean stared at his hands, feeling the sun warming them and not feeling the terrible burn. Looking over at Spike, for the first time ever, he saw him in the sun. He looked so handsome with the sunshine glinting off his eyes and his hair. The golden glow washing over Spike made him look almost heavenly.

Sam saw the same thing and he moved over and kissed them both.

Though he was still stunned... it had been over a hundred years since he’d been able to stand the sun... Spike responded to the kiss. He had a few bloody tears in his eyes, which he tried to blink away real fast. “Right. This calls for a celebration. Come on lads... take the clothes off. Slowly... I’m in the mood for a show.” When they looked at him, he gave an innocent shrug. “She’d gone... it’s just us in her tent.”

"I'm not taking chances," Dean answered. "You celebrate with yourself." 

“Spike, he can't for thirty days," Sam looked at him.

“What? No!” His tone was genuinely anguished as he remembered the terms of the agreement. “Bloody fucking hell,” a pout already formed on his mouth as he thought of alternative ways to celebrate. There were none that came close to mind-blowing sex with Dean, or should that be bed-breaking or wall-shaking... “Let’s go get pissed. That’s _drunk_ , before you go asking.”  
"Then say let's go get drunk," Dean smacked him on the back of the head and rolled his eyes. "We’re soo gonna have to teach you proper English." Dean smirked.

Sam held out the Impala keys, "You know, there are no bars open and no one will sell us beer till noon." 

Dean stopped, grabbing the keys, "You are such a Mary-bring-me-down."

Spike muttered something about being stuck in the wrong states ever since meeting up with the Winchesters. “What’s wrong with stealing... breaking into a bar, that’s it... that’s the ticket,” he turned his gaze to Dean and added, “and _we_ created the English language, it’s why it’s named after us and not you. Keep that in mind, yeah?”

"Yeah, we perfected it," Dean answered. "Okay, who's up for a drink?" Dean grinned knowing where they were heading.

“Bollocks.” Spike headed for the car, knowing that gleam in Dean’s eyes meant they were headed for trouble, the sort he’d like.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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Sam was barely keeping himself stable on the bar stool, especially each time he spun on it. He watched and shook his head watching Dean shooting pool with Spike. Dean was purposely torturing Spike as he bent over and presented his lover with a nice view of his ass before making a shot and sauntering around to the other side with this grin that said he knew what he was doing.

Comments were made, bets as well, and it was pissing Spike off that Dean kept winning. "I'm telling you, Spot, um I mean, Spike," Sam corrected, "Dean has luck on his side."

Dean was grinning like a mad man and nodded, "Yep, got lady luck livin' in my back pocket."

“Maybe if you’d stop shaking that arse and ruining my concentrations.. concentration.” Spike tried to cool himself off with a couple more swallows of beer, as his gaze focused on the faded jeans clinging just so to Dean’s arse. The bastard leaned over the table far more than he actually needed to.

An unholy fire lit Spike’s eyes. Setting his drink down, he walked up behind Dean, and positioned his hardening cock against his arse and made as if to show him how to properly shoot. “A hard right, into the hole. That’s the ticket, mate,” he whispered against Dean’s ear, his arms around Dean and holding the pool stick with him.

Dean closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the hardness press against him. Spike’s words and the movement of his lips against his ear didn't help much either. He turned his head and was only inches from those lips he so wanted to kiss, but he knew what that would lead to.

Sam, thankfully, suddenly fell off his stool and Dean quickly pushed away from Spike. "Sammy? You okay over there?"

Sam raised his hand, "I'm good."

Spike groaned. Just a little kiss, it’s all he’d wanted. Maybe a small grope. Or a bit of pressure... And thinking along these lines wasn’t doing him a bit of good. He stepped back. “Go on, take your best shot,” he growled, letting his frustration surface. 

Dean looked at Spike, "I'm sorry, Dude, I made a deal and I'm not gonna risk it, okay," He leaned in and kissed Spike on the cheek. "Now move," he bumped him with his hip and got down to make his shot.

Unconsciously, Spike started to reach for him again, then dropped his hands. “Sam... you finish the game out. I need to... get as drunk as you.” Walking backwards, gaze still clinging to Dean’s arse, he tripped over a chair and swore up a storm. 

Leaning across the bar, he reached for the bottle of whiskey, and started to swallow it down. “I might need to sleep in chains tonight,” he muttered, thinking it might be necessary if he didn’t drink himself into a bloody stupor.

Sam pulled himself up and took the stick. "See, unlike you I know how to beat my brother."

"Do not," Dean answered.

"Uhuh," Sam pushed Dean aside then started pushing all the balls into the pockets.

"Hey!" Dean tackled his brother, ending up with both of them rolling around.

Turning to look at them, if at all possible, Spike paled. “You’re like a fucking porno on display... wait until your thirty days are over, you’re paying for this,” he groused, mentally undressing the pair of them and biting his lower lip as his mind played a soundtrack of pants and groans. Lifting the bottle, he took a few more swallows... the quicker he deadened his senses, the better. This would be a good time to go and get some stronger stuff, the stuff that worked on Vampires far quicker.

Sam pushed Dean off and pulled himself up on the edge of the pool table, looking at Spike with his hair in his eyes, "Porno? Who's got a porno. I don't.”

“Oh now, let’s see... you two are playing ‘horizontal hip fighting’ and I’m supposed to think of something other than porn. You...” he pointed a long finger at Sam, “are no longer the smart one.”

"I..." Sam opened his mouth, "I... *burp*... am too smart." Sam nodded. "You are just a big ... big..."

Dean leaned in, "Dick?"

"Yeah, dick," Sam nodded. He stopped then looked at Dean. "You are such a jerk," He pushed Dean.

“Would you stop talking about dicks?” Spike gritted his teeth. “And BIG things... or I’ll show you big things. Bastards.”

Dean blinked innocently at Spike. "You know, you two can have sex, I just can't." Dean pushed Sam who fell over, hitting the floor. "Look Spike, he's ready!"

Looking down at Sam, Spike gave a one-shouldered shrug. “He’s quite pretty laying there like that. But I can’t shag a drunk... not until I’m good and bloody drunk myself.” Course his mind was playing out the shagging, and the thought of Dean unable to participate and just watching them sent blood straight to his groin.

Sam grabbed at the table and pulled up again, "But if we are both drunk ..."

"Aww, Sammy’s scared he won't get laid," Dean grabbed Sam around the neck and pulled him over to kiss his cheek.

“He,” Spike pointed the bottleneck toward Dean, “thinks that helps... the cheek kissing and the word games and the wrestling. You’re right Sam, you’re the smart one. Thirty days... twenty nine more nights... someone want to nail me in a coffin for that time?” He almost fell off the stool, but righted himself.

Both brothers saw the wobble and the way Spike tried to hide it with a smooth move. They looked at each other then snickered, falling over and laughing before coming back up..

"Oh, c'mon, it's not that hard, Spike," Sam informed him. "You can do it and it’ll be so worth it in the end."

"So not using the right words." Dean tried to keep from smiling.

Every muscle in Spike’s body tensed. By all that was unholy, they were both asking for it. “If you’re not careful, I’ll give you a hard screw, straight up, and I’m not talking about the drink, yeah?” That sort of talk took him straight back to the club... to the first time he’d met Dean and the straight talk they’d had about what they wanted and how they wanted it. It made him burn... yearn for it. “Bah, not letting you two play with me,” he said waving them away, and turning his back to them.

Sam looked at Dean, "I think he is acting like one of those little boys, taking his balls and going home."

Dean couldn't help bursting out laughing and falling on the floor.

Sam looked innocently at Dean, "What? What did I say?" It wasn't till he thought through the fog in his head before he started giggling, "Ohhhh."

Dean pushed up. He pulled Sam up with him and dragged him over then wrapped his arms around Spike, "C'mon, we'll take you home, get you a nice cold shower."  
Sam stumbled into Spike, getting in close to him, "Yeah, come with us, we'll take care of you."

"Think you've taken care of me quite enough already." As if Sam didn't know exactly how Spike wanted to be taken care of at his moment, and his talk of bollocks and hard things... But because he was a bloody good-natured vampire, he let them cajole and drag him out of the bar, but not before he grabbed another bottle of whiskey.

Soon they were in their motel room. Spike left the giggling gits behind and went into the shower. Cold water was supposed to dampen the libido, well it didn't seem to work for vampires. Gritting his teeth, he steadfastly forced himself to stay put, sure that they would put some porn on or have something else going in the room just for the purpose of torturing him.

Sam laid on the bed, his pants half off, his shirt off and he was feeling the room spin. Dean had muttered something to him and headed out. Something about food. So there the younger brother lay, his head hanging off the other side.

When Spike entered the room, it was just as he'd thought. Porn. In the form of one Sam Winchester spread out half naked on the bed he would have to sleep in because no one got to sleep with Dean until he was no longer off limits. He'd bet the two boys had concocted this ... this plan on purpose, just to torture him. His gaze shifted around the room, looking for Dean, but he didn't sense him anywhere. Cursing them both to the depths of hell, he flopped down on the bed, with the towel still secured around him.

Sam felt the movement and tried to lift his head. "Hey," he smiled then struggled to sit up. "Dean went to go ... go get food." He looked over at him. He allowed his own green eyes to travel over the firm muscles. "Sorry about earlier. I know it's hard," he stopped, realizing he was using the wrong words. "Um, I mean not being with Dean." He reached out and ran his hand over Spike’s arm. "Hey, didn't say anything about me."

"You offering?" Spike pushed himself up to a sitting position, his gaze locked with Sam's. When Sam didn't pull away, he moved in to claim his mouth, kissing him hard as he tried to ease the frustration that had been building every since he'd realized he couldn't touch Dean for a very very long time. 

As Sam leaned in, Spike started to concentrate on how Sam tasted, how good it felt to be inside the moist heat of his mouth, and how boldly he met him kiss for kiss. He wasn’t getting a raw deal here, not by a long shot.

 

Sam flicked his legs, getting his jeans off before grabbing Spike and pulling him down to the mattress with him. He loosened the towel around Spike's waist and curled his fingers around the vampire’s stiff cock. "I know you ache for Dean. So do I but we have each other.”

Arching into his touch, Spike groaned. "Right now, all I'm aching for is you, yeah?" He kneaded the sheets for a few more minutes as Sam got him hard, and then he pushed Sam on his back. About to pull his hands above his head, he remembered Sam didn't like the trapped feeling... he wasn't like Dean at all. "Alright, girl on top," he said with a smirk, rolling both of them so Sam was on top of him. "Straddle me."

Sam had to stop a moment as the world spun and then he was on top. He had a hand on Spike's chest, blinking a few times before he dropped down and kissed him hard, rubbing their cocks firmly against each other. "Pushy," he mumbled against Spike’s sensuous lips before rocking a bit. He kissed down Spike's chest before he got up and straddled him properly.

"And proud of it," Spike answered, gripping Sam's hips, lubing and positioning and him at once. His cock throbbed and ached now that he had the pressure he wanted. "Ride me," he ordered, raising his hips and grinding Sam down on top of him. "Bloody hell, I've been hard all day... need this," he muttered, his gaze lifting to Sam's mouth. He slid one hand up and down Sam's cock and abs, encouraging him... trying to inflame his lust and make him catch up. 

Sam gritted his teeth as he was stretched and he was pushed down, taking Spike’s hard cock. It was enough to bring Sam out of his drunken stupor. He looked down at Spike, his eyes dark with lust as he braced and started moving up and down Spike's length. Sam hadn't had much sex with Spike but when he did, it was damn good, and when Dean was involved, it was ... it was like a hurricane or a volcano going off. "Gawd," Sam swore as he moved over him.

Sam might be on top, but Spike was calling the shots. Lifting up to meet his thrusts, keeping a slow, steady rhythm as he worked himself up. Looking up at Sam, Spike wondered at how one man could look both soft and hard. His face... sometimes he looked so young, and sometimes, like right now when was intently moving towards a goal, he had a hard iron edge to him. "You're bloody sexy with you mouth open. Put it to good use, yeah?" 

Sam looked down at Spike. He was pushy. Used to getting his way, much like his brother. He knew when the two were together it was like an intense battle, with the two of them ending up coated in sweat. But Spike should know, Sam didn't like to take orders. He placed a large hand on Spike's chest and put pressure on it, pushing Spike and holding him down as he tried to take some control, moving more slowly as his green eyes started to burn with more intensity.

Recognizing the glint in Sam’s eyes, Spike reached up and gripped Sam’s arms, slowly pulling him closer even as Sam pressed his hand into his chest and refused to bring his mouth within kissing range. He licked his lips. “Keep that up and …”

"And what?" Sam resisted, keeping himself just painfully out of reach. There was that little Winchester spark in his eyes and just behind it, something darker.

“And this." He suddenly gripped Sam's hips, and held him so tight against him, that neither one of them could move more than a few inches each way. Now they were both staring at each other with need, building and inflamed by the silent battle waging between them. 

Sam moved just those inches, using inner muscles to throb around Spike's cock. He then leaned down and kissed Spike hard. His tongue plunged in and pulled, explored and sucked on Spike’s firm lips.

As Sam clenched around him, Spike almost came off the bed. He’d been so hard and thick for so long, every bit of friction was enough to drive him to the looney bin. Loosening his hold, he started to let Sam rock against him, their mouths meeting in one messy kiss after another. 

He slid his hand behind Sam’s head and stroked his hair, tugging him closer, and stroking again. Heat started to coil low in his belly. He groaned and resisted the urge to reverse their positions, to take what he needed.

Sam's lips were wet, even as he pulled back and was suddenly pulling off his brother's lover. "Now you get to be the girl." He flopped down on his stomach and presented his ass to Spike.

“Nothing girly ‘bout me,” Spike cockily assured him, settling between Sam’s thighs. He grabbed a pillow and shoved it under his stomach, admiring the view. He stroked the curves of Sam’s ass, then lowered his head and kissed his way close to the crack. “Ever fucked a stranger?” Feeling Sam tense, he blew on him slowly. Spike did like his games.

 

Sam looked back, "Now and again, not as often as Dean." Sam gritted his teeth and he felt a tremble move through him. He closed his eyes, trying to control his breathing.

“Ever been tongue fucked?” his voice as smooth as velvet but a little muffled, as he kept kissing.

"I've never fucked a guy, till now, how would I ever know that?" Sam half twisted to look back to him. "C'mon will you just ..."

“Shshsh,” he slid his hand up Sam’s back and pressed him back down. “What’s the rush?” Dipping his head down, he licked Sam’s sack, sucking it greedily as he felt his skin tighten. Then he parted Sam’s ass cheeks and slowly licked his way up to his hole. He felt him shudder again, and pushed his wet tongue inside, moving it firmly to make sure Sam could feel it. His thumb pressed and rubbed the sensitive spot behind Sam’s sack.

Sam let out a throaty sound. His hands gripping the sheets and tugged as the sensation went through his whole body. Nearly every muscle in his body was tight. And then he jolted at the sensation before settling with a sigh. He dropped his head down, closing his eyes. "Oh gawd, Spike. You ...." He groaned deeply again and could feel his balls tightening up.

Dean returned and stopped by the window and take a peek. Through a thin part in the curtains, Dean saw bodies. Naked ones. Light from the room glistening off sweat. Spike was between Sam's legs, tongue fucking his brother and there was Sam, his eyes closed and looking like heaven.

Dean felt a jealous pulse coarse through him. That should be him. Spike was his lover not Sam's. And he wanted Spike to do that to him. To do the things he did to him before. But then that pulse cleared and Dean knew, Spike wasn't just his. Just like Sam was never just his. They were all three linked together forever now, as family and lovers.

This was gonna be a very long thirty days. Dean wondered, how quietly he could actually enter the room? If he could sit there and ... He slowly opened the door and quietly slipped inside.

"Not yet," Spike grit out, pressing on the base of Sam's cock to prevent him from coming. "Not until I'm inside." Even as he plunged his tongue inside Sam and had him squirming, Spike imagined his cock pushing into Sam, feeling him tighten around him. In his head, he heard Dean's voice encouraging him, and that's when he became relentless. Using his tongue, and pushing his finger inside Sam as well, he hit his sweet spot every time, with every entry, every brush of tongue and finger... and still, he didn't let him come.

Sam squirmed over the bedding and whimpered now and again. He wanted to come but Spike wasn't letting him and he couldn't do anything to stop it. Sam reached up and gripped the headboard, "Damnit, Spike, stop teasing," he started to try and pull away.

His laughter was a bit unsteady. Spike pulled away and quickly lubed Sam up again, having already loosened him up quite a bit. Tossing the tube to the table, he started to crawl up Sam’s body, and aligned himself. “Want me to fuck you into the mattress, that it? ”

 

"Just get in me, damnit," Sam half ordered, his body trembling. Spike was so close to him, he wanted more. And then he felt it. The pressure. The pain. The burn of Spike's cock pushing inside him. Sam arched his neck, pushing his head back to rest on Spike's shoulder.

White heat blinded Spike as he pushed inside Sam, deep. His answer had been much more than he’d hoped for, inflaming him. He did his best not to buck, to hold back while Sam adjusted to him. “Shshsh, don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, moving his mouth across Sam’s shoulder, and resting his teeth right over the pulse point at the side of his throat. A craving to taste him... to take his blood... ripped through Spike. Fuck. He pressed his teeth lightly down, and started to thrust... trying to get his mind off this new need.

Sam was oblivious to everything but the sensations rocking through him as Spike rode his ass. He was only half conscious of the fact that the vampire’s teeth were on his neck.

Dean, on the other hand, was all too aware. He’d sensed Spike’s craving and jerked his head up to find Spike with his mouth pulsing over Sam's neck. Without thought, he reached in his jacket, pulling his gun out and he was across the room with the cold metal pressed to Spike's temple, "You draw blood, I won't hesitate to splatter your brains."

 

Sam suddenly snapped out of it and blinked, "Dean?"

Dean’s threat backed up by the gun against his head made Spike’s blood thicken and rush through his veins like molten lava. Curling his lips up, he gripped Sam’s soft skin even more firmly between his teeth and started to fuck him harder.... imagining what Dean was seeing, imagining his finger twitching on the trigger... imagining his wrath and excitement clouding his mind. His love knew how to bring him to the edge.

 

Sam groaned, his body rocking from Spike's hard thrusts. He couldn’t explain it but when he heard the cocking of the Colt, he started to come, releasing over the bedding.

 

Dean grabbed a hand full of hair and pulled at Spike as he leaned down, hissing a threatening breath, "I mean it."

Torn away from Sam, Spike left red marks on the delicate skin of the hunter’s throat. His gaze locked with Dean’s. “I know you do. Stop me,” smirking, he moved his head and took the barrel of the gun into his mouth. Hot whips of pleasure tormented him as he fucked harder, daring Dean... knowing this was a dangerous game he was playing. With each clink of metal against his teeth, Spike was one step closer to release from the pressure building inside him.

 

Dean saw the fire and heat. His own teeth clenched tightly because he wanted it to be him. Wanted to feel what Spike was giving his brother and he couldn't. So he did what was next best. He used the gun to fuck Spike's mouth. He leaned down close, whispering in Spike's ear with a hiss of danger, "You take your mouth from this gun," he spoke slowly, "I will pull the trigger."

 

Spike groaned, and sucked on the tip of the barrel. Good Dean... so good. Every dangerous word, every low threat had Spike’s entire body pulsating. Gripping Sam’s hips, he angled his thrusts just right, determined to make him come again... show him, and his brother... the both of them. 

So close, so bleeding close... Spike pulled his mouth of the barrel with a pop, and arched his head back as it was forced back inside. Fighting to keep his eyes open and clashing with Dean’s greens, he came in a fiery explosion of grunts and thrusts until the ache between his legs eased, and he lowered his head over Sam’s back, relaxing with the gun still up against his palette. 

It was a beautiful thing. Spike trying to get Sam to come again even as those blue eyes locked to his. He was so deadly with those eyes. Dean swore he could cum just by looking into those eyes. He wanted to be the one who felt Spike get off. And the look on both their faces, right when they released, it had Dean gritting his teeth.

It was over. The musky smell of sex filled the room and Dean felt a tremble rumble through him. He wanted. Needed. He slowly pulled the gun from Spike's mouth and leaned down. "Don't you ever bite my brother, you got me? And if you feel that need, you come to me, you got it, cause I'll do you up right." He leaned down closer and whispered, "I might not be able to fuck you but I can with this," he ran the muzzle down along his jawline.

Sam turned his head "Dean, it's okay."

Dean flashed Sam a look.

Lifting his chin, Spike swallowed as Dean dragged the weapon along his face. Despite his release, the combination of naked desire and fierce determination in Dean’s expression was making his body react. “You can fuck me any way you like. Any way.” He waited for Dean to pull the gun away, before he leaned down, kissed Sam and rolled off him.

“I need a smoke.” He looked at the bulge in Dean’s pants. “It’s going to be a bloody long month.” Right, he pretended he didn’t notice the looks both brothers aimed his way for stating the obvious.

* * *

The month was indeed long. But they got creative with their times together. If Dean didn't jack off to the two fucking, he would fuck Spike with his gun or any other object he could think of. And when the month was up, Spike and Dean didn't leave the room for forty eight hours.

For the next couple of months, they worked a few cases. Now they had some down time. Dean was on the bed, watching a Godzilla marathon, Sam was at his computer researching. "Dude, you know Halloween is coming up," Sam informed Dean.

"I'm gonna go as a vampire, how about you?" Dean smirked.

Spike slid Sam a look. “He’s going as a Vampire Slayer. Get him some heels, a stake, a short skirt...”

"You both know I hate Halloween? I was referring to the increased activity, dorks." Sam rolled his eyes.

Dean turned to Spike, "I think he is self conscious of his knees."

"Would you two knock it off," Sam turned his laptop, "Its a Celtic festival known as Samhain which celebrates the harvest."

"Let me guess, you thinking virgins will be sacrificed." Dean looked at Spike, "I think he wants us to work on a case."

“I think we’ll need to go back to our favorite Shaman and ask her to re-virginate him.” Spike ducked away and the pillow Sam threw fell harmlessly to his side. “Right... that’s code for he wants us to be serious.”

Frowning, Spike got up and paced. “How about we work the case... if he lets us pick his costume. Won’t kill you to have a bit of fun and work at the same time, mate,” he nudged Sam’s shoulder as he passed him.

"I am not doing a costume," Sam got up and moved over to sit by Dean.

Dean looked at Sam, "You would make a killer school girl."

"I'm not ..." Sam started to protest but then Dean leaned in and kissed him. "I'm still ..."

Dean kissed him again, "Can we go as the three stooges instead?"

“Can I be Moe? I like poking things.” Smirking, he watched the other two half wrestling half making love. “Right... go on and kiss him into submission. Works every time.” 

Spike sat back and watched Dean’s special brand of persuasion. It was hard now, to remember a time when they hadn’t been together, or when this had been nothing but a dream. He had his boys, and they had him. There was nothing more he could want. Nothing.

Except a three way on top of a train. As his gaze shifted to Sam, he had to wonder how much persuading that would take...


End file.
